Six More Hot Single Dads!

Being a new single dad to a teen was the most frustrating, awkward thing he’d ever done in his life.

But he’d have to find a way to make this work. For all their sakes.

CHAPTER TWO

NATE HAD DARK shadows under his eyes, Erin noticed. And, although he was being completely professional with their patients, she could see the suppressed misery in his eyes.

I shouldn’t bring my baggage to work.

His words from the previous day echoed in her head. Right at that moment, it looked to her as if he was fighting a losing battle. Clearly whatever was bothering him had stopped him getting a decent night’s sleep.

OK, so he’d rebuffed her yesterday when she’d offered to listen. But that didn’t mean she should give up on him. Erin knew what it was like to be in a bad place—and she’d been lucky enough to have her best friend’s mother to bat her corner when she’d really needed it. Maybe Nate didn’t have someone in his life like Rachel. So maybe, just maybe, she could help.

Which would be a kind of payback. Something to help lessen the guilt that would never go away.

At the end of their rounds, she said, ‘Can we have a quick word?’

He looked confused, but shrugged. ‘Sure. What can I do for you?’

‘Shall we talk over lunch?’ she suggested. ‘My shout.’

He frowned, suspicion creeping in to his expression. ‘Is this anything to do with the sensory garden?’

‘Absolutely not. No strings,’ she promised. ‘A sandwich and coffee in the staff canteen. And no haranguing you about my pet project. Just something I wanted to run by you.’

‘OK. See you in my office at, what, half-past twelve?’ he suggested. ‘Though obviously that depends on our patients. One of them might need some extra time.’

She liked the fact that even though he was clearly struggling to deal with his personal life, he was still putting his patients first. ‘That’d be great. I’ll come and collect you.’

Erin spent the rest of the morning in clinic, and to her relief everything ran on time. Nate’s pre-surgery consultations had clearly also gone well, because he was sitting at his desk in his office when she turned up at half-past twelve.

‘I’ll just save my file,’ he said, and tapped a few buttons on his computer keyboard while she waited.

In the staff canteen, she bought them both a sandwich and coffee, plus a blueberry muffin, and directed him to find them a quiet table in the corner.

‘Cake?’ he asked when she turned up at their table.

‘Absolutely. Cake makes everything better,’ she said.

‘So what can I do for you?’ he asked, looking slightly wary.

‘Yesterday, you said that you didn’t know me.’

He winced. ‘Sorry. That was rude. I didn’t mean it to sound as mean as that.’

‘I’m not trying to make you feel bad about what you said,’ she said. ‘What I mean is that we all go through times when we can’t see the wood for the trees, and sometimes it helps to talk to someone who’s completely not connected with the situation—someone who might have a completely different viewpoint.’

He didn’t look convinced.

‘So I guess I’m repeating my offer from yesterday,’ she finished.

‘That’s very kind of you, but—’ he began.

‘Don’t say no,’ she broke in. ‘Just eat your lunch and think about it.’

‘Why are you being so kind?’ he asked. ‘Because you don’t know me, either.’

‘I don’t have any weird ulterior motive,’ she said. ‘It’s kind of payback. You know—what goes around, comes around. In the past, I was in a tough situation when I really needed to talk to someone. I was lucky, because someone was there for me. So now it’s my turn to be that person for someone else.’

‘As in me?’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Got you.’

Though she noticed that he still looked worried. And she could guess why. ‘For the record,’ she said gently, ‘I’m not a gossip. Whatever you say to me will go nowhere else. And right now I think you really do need to talk to someone, because you look like hell.’

He smiled, then. ‘And you tell it like it is.’

She shrugged. ‘It’s the easiest way. So just eat your cake and think about it, yes?’

* * *

Nate knew that he really didn’t deserve this. But, oh, it was so tempting to take up Erin’s offer. If nothing else, she might help him to see things from Caitlin’s point of view so he could understand what was going on in his daughter’s head. Since Caitlin had come to live with him, he’d never felt more alone.

He believed Erin when she said she wasn’t a gossip. He’d never heard her talk about other people in the staff room in their absence. Besides, the kind of people who organised departmental evenings out and collections for gifts for colleagues weren’t the kind of people who took pleasure in tearing people down.

Even though he barely knew her, he had the strongest feeling that he could trust her.

And maybe she had a point. Talking to someone who didn’t know either of them might help him see his way through this. Then maybe he could be the father Caitlin so clearly needed. ‘You’re sure about this?’ he asked. ‘Because it’s a long story and it’s not pretty. I...’ He dragged in a breath. ‘Right now, I don’t like myself very much.’

‘Nothing’s beautiful all the time, and if you have regrets about a situation then it’s proof that you’re willing to consider making changes to improve things,’ she said. ‘And it might not be as bad as you think. Try me.’

‘Thank you.’ But where did he start? ‘It’s my daughter,’ he said eventually.

‘You’re a new dad?’ she asked. ‘Well, that would explain the shadows under your eyes. Not enough sleep, thanks to your newborn.’

He gave her a wry smile. ‘Yes to the sleepless nights bit—but it’s complicated.’

She simply spread her hands and smiled back, giving him space to make sense of things in his own head rather than barging in with questions. Funny how that made it so much easier to talk to her.

‘I’m sort of a new dad, but Caitlin’s not a newborn,’ he explained. ‘She’s thirteen.’

* * *

Nate had a thirteen-year-old daughter.

So did that mean he was married? Well, good, Erin thought. That would make him absolutely out of bounds. Any relationship between them would have to be strictly platonic. She was aware that made her a coward, choosing to spend her time with people she knew were unavailable so were therefore safe: but she’d turned her life round now and she wasn’t going to risk letting everything go off track again.

But then again, he’d just said he was a new dad. How? Was he fostering the girl?

Giving him a barrage of questions would be the quickest way to make him close up again; but silence would be just as bad. ‘Thirteen’s a tough age,’ she said, hoping that she didn’t sound judgemental.

‘And she doesn’t get on with her mother’s new husband.’

New husband? Oh, help. So Nate wasn’t married, then—or, at least, he wasn’t married to the mother of his daughter.

‘She didn’t get on with my now ex-girlfriend, either.’

Meaning that Nate was single. Which in turn meant he was no longer safe. Erin masked her burgeoning dismay with a kind smile.

‘And I have absolutely no idea how to connect with my daughter.’ He sighed. ‘Anyone would think I was eighty-five, not thirty-five.’

So if Caitlin was thirteen now, Nate had been quite young when she was born. Not even fully qualified as a doctor, let alone as a surgeon.

Clearly her thoughts showed in her expression, as he sighed again. ‘I’m sure you’ve already done the maths and worked out that we had Caitlin when we were young. Too young, really. Steph was twenty-one and I was twenty-two. We hadn’t actually planned to have Caitlin at that point, but we didn’t want the alternative, so we got married. We thought at the time it would work out because we loved each other and we’d manage to muddle through it together.’

Yeah. Erin knew that one. Except loving someone wasn’t always enough to make things work out. Particularly when the feelings weren’t the same on both sides. And particularly when you were too young to realise that it took more strength to let go than to hold on and hope you could change the other person, instead of making the sensible decision to walk away before things got seriously messy. She’d learned that the hard way.

But this wasn’t about her baggage. It was about helping Nate.

‘It’s pretty hard to cope with normal life when you’re a junior doctor,’ she said, ‘let alone a baby.’

‘Tell me about it,’ he said ruefully. ‘I was working—well, you know yourself the hours you work when you’re a junior doctor. So I was too tired to take over baby duties from Steph when I got home from work. She’d had to put her plans on hold. Instead of doing a postgraduate course to train as a teacher, she was stuck at home with the baby all day and every day, so I totally understand why she was fed up with me. I should’ve done a lot more and supported her better.’

‘You were working long hours and studying as well. All you can do is your best,’ Erin said.

‘I tried, but it wasn’t enough. Steph left me in the end, when Caitlin was three. They moved away.’ He grimaced. ‘I should’ve moved with them instead of staying in London.’

‘You’re a spinal surgeon,’ Erin pointed out. ‘There aren’t spinal units in every single hospital in the country, and you were, what, twenty-five when she left?’ At his nod, she continued, ‘Back then you would still have been studying for your surgeon’s exams. Even if you’d found another spinal unit close to wherever Steph and Caitlin had moved, there’s no guarantee they would’ve had a training place for you. It’s not like working in an emergency department or in maternity, where there’s a bit more flexibility and you can move hospitals a little more easily if you have to.’

‘It’s still my fault. Maybe I specialised too soon, or I should’ve just stopped being selfish and realised I couldn’t follow my dreams. Maybe I should’ve compromised by moving specialties and working in the emergency department instead,’ he said. ‘Steph and Caitlin ended up living in Devon, a five-hour drive from me. So I got to see her on the odd weekend, and she used to come and stay with me sometimes in the holidays, but that’s nothing like living with someone all the time. I feel as if we’re almost strangers. And she hates living with me.’

‘So why is she living with you? Is her mum ill?’

‘No.’ He winced. ‘As I said, she didn’t get on with her mum’s new husband. Steph said Caitlin’s a nightmare teenager and it was about time I did my share of parenting—so she sent Caitlin to live with me.’

Erin went cold.

A difficult teenager who didn’t get on with her mother’s new man, kicked out of home by her mother and sent to live with her father. Erin knew that story well. Had lived through every second of it in misery herself, thirteen years ago. ‘When did this happen?’

‘Just over a month ago.’

A few days before he’d started his new job. Not great timing for either of them. And now Erin understood exactly why Nate didn’t socialise with the team. He needed to spend the time with his daughter and build their relationship properly.

‘So she’s moved somewhere she doesn’t know, miles away from all her friends and everyone she’s grown up with, and she’s got to settle in to a new school as well.’

‘Which would be a huge change for anyone,’ he agreed, ‘but it’s harder still when you’re thirteen years old. And I’m clueless, Erin. I don’t know how to deal with this. I’m way out of my depth. I asked Steph what to do, and...’ He stopped abruptly.

Clearly his ex hadn’t been able to help much. Or maybe she hadn’t been willing to offer advice. Erin knew that one first-hand, too. Erin’s mother had washed her hands of her, the day she’d kicked Erin out. And even now, all these years later, their relationship was difficult.

But Erin liked the fact that Nate was clearly trying hard to be fair and shoulder his share of the blame for things going wrong, rather than refusing to accept any responsibility and claiming that it was all his ex’s fault. ‘It sounds to me as if you need a friend—someone’s who’s been there and understands thirteen-year-old girls,’ she said carefully.

He blinked. ‘You’re telling me you have a thirteen-year-old? But you don’t look old enough.’

‘I’m not.’ Though she flinched inwardly. If things had been a little different, she might have had a thirteen-year-old daughter herself right now. But things were as they were. And she still felt a mixture of regret and relief and guilt when she thought about the miscarriage. Regret for a little life that hadn’t really had a chance to start, for the baby she’d never got to know; relief, because when she looked back she knew she hadn’t been mature enough to be a mum at the age of sixteen; and guilt, because she had friends who’d be fantastic parents and were having trouble conceiving, whereas she’d fallen pregnant the very first time she’d had sex. The miscarriage had been her wake-up call, and she’d turned her life round. Studied hard. Passed all her exams, the second time round. Become a doctor. Tried to make a difference and to make up for her mistakes. Not that she would ever be able to make up for the biggest one.

She pushed the thoughts away. Not now. ‘I was a thirteen-year-old girl once. Although I was a couple of years older than your Caitlin when my parents split up, my mum got involved with someone I loathed and it got a bit messy.’ That was the understatement of the year. ‘So I ended up living with my dad.’ Because her mum hadn’t believed her about Creepy Leonard, Erin had gone even further off the rails—and then she’d made the terrible mistake that had ruined her brother’s life.

Maybe, just maybe, this could be her chance for payback. To help Nate’s daughter and stop Caitlin making the same mistakes that Erin herself had made.

‘So you’ve actually been in Caitlin’s shoes?’ Nate asked, looking surprised.

‘From what you’ve just told me, pretty much,’ Erin said.

He sucked in a breath. ‘I know this is a big ask—because you don’t know me, either—but, as you clearly have a much better idea than I do about what she’s going through, would you be able to help me, so I don’t make things even worse than they are for her right now?’

‘I’m not perfect,’ she warned, ‘but yes, I’m happy to try. Maybe we could meet up at the weekend and do something together, so Caitlin can start getting to know me and I can try and get her talking a bit.’

‘Thank you.’ He looked at her. ‘And what can I do for you in return?’

She flapped a dismissive hand. ‘You don’t need to do anything.’

‘If you help me, then I need to help you. It’s only fair.’

She couldn’t resist teasing him. ‘So if I asked you to do a stint in the sensory garden with a bit of weeding or what have you, you’d do it?’

‘If that’s what you want, sure.’ He paused. ‘Why is the garden so important to you?’

It sounded as if he actually wanted to know, rather than criticising her. And he’d shared something with her; maybe he’d feel less awkward about that if she shared something in return. Not the whole story, but enough of the bare bones to stop him asking more questions. ‘Because I know someone who had a really bad car accident and ended up in a wheelchair. He was helped by a sensory garden,’ she said. ‘It was the thing that stopped him going off the edge.’

‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way but, if you’re going to help Caitlin and me, I need to ask you something. Is there a husband or a boyfriend who might have a problem with you doing that?’

‘No.’

‘OK. I just...’ He blew out a breath. ‘Well, I’ve messed up enough of my own relationships. I don’t want to mess up anyone else’s as well.’

She smiled. ‘Not a problem. There’s nothing to mess up.’

‘Good.’ He grimaced. ‘And that sounded bad. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not coming on to you, Erin. I split up with my last girlfriend nearly a month ago, a few days after Caitlin arrived, and frankly I don’t have room in my life for a relationship. All my time’s taken up learning to be a dad, and right now I’m not making a very good job of it.’

‘I know you’re not coming on to me,’ she said. Besides, even if he was, it wouldn’t work out. Love didn’t last. She’d seen it first-hand—her own parents’ marriage and subsequent relationships splintering, her brother’s girlfriend dumping him when he needed her most, and then none of her own relationships since her teens had lasted for more than a few months. She’d given up on love. ‘I’m focused on my career and I’m not looking for a relationship, either. But I can always use a friend, and it sounds as if you and Caitlin could, too.’

‘Yes. We could.’ He looked at her. ‘I ought to warn you in advance that most of her communications with me right now involve slammed doors or rolled eyes.’

‘You need a bit of time to get used to each other and to get to know each other better,’ Erin said. ‘As you say, seeing someone at weekends and holidays isn’t the same as living with them all the time. She needs to find out where her new boundaries are. Her whole life’s changed and she probably thinks it’s her fault she’s been sent to live with you. Especially if she was close to her mum and now they’re not getting on so well. What’s the problem with her mum’s new man?’

‘He seems a bit of a jerk,’ Nate said. ‘Which isn’t me saying that I’m jealous and I want Steph back—we stopped loving each other years ago, and the best I can hope for is that we can be civil to each other for Caitlin’s sake. But he doesn’t seem to be making a lot of effort with Caitlin.’

‘If you get involved with someone who has a child, you know they come as a package and you have to try to get on with your new partner’s child if you want it to work,’ Erin said. ‘If Steph’s new man doesn’t bother doing that, that makes it tricky for you. You can’t take sides, because whichever one you pick you’ll be in the wrong. If you take Steph’s side, Caitlin will resent you for it; and if you take Caitlin’s side, Steph will resent you for it. So your best bet would be to tell them both that you’re staying neutral, that the bone of contention about Steph’s new man is strictly between them, and absolutely refuse to discuss it with either of them.’

He leaned back and gave her a look of pure admiration. ‘How come you’re so wise? Are you twice as old as you look?’

‘And have a portrait of an ageing person in the attic, like Dorian Grey?’ she asked with a grin. ‘No. I’m twenty-nine.’ But if she’d had a portrait in the attic, it would’ve been very ugly indeed. A portrait of sheer selfishness. She’d spent the last thirteen years trying and failing to make up for it.

‘Twenty-nine. So you’re just about young enough to remember what it was like, being thirteen years old.’

‘And a girl,’ she reminded him. ‘You’re at a disadvantage, you know, having a Y chromosome.’

‘Tell me about it.’ He rolled his eyes.

She laughed. ‘I think you might’ve learned that particular move from your daughter. I hereby award you a gold star for eye-rolling.’

* * *

‘Why, thank you,’ he teased back.

Nate hadn’t felt this light-hearted in what felt like for ever. Not since that first phone call from Steph, informing him that Caitlin was coming to live with him permanently as from that weekend and he had to sort out her new school immediately.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘And I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.’

‘Over the sensory garden?’ She shrugged. ‘We agreed to disagree. And we’re fine as colleagues. I like the way you explain things to patients, and I like the fact you don’t look down at Theatre staff.’

‘Of course I don’t. I couldn’t operate without them,’ he said. ‘Literally.’

‘Which isn’t how your predecessor saw things, believe me,’ she said. ‘You’ll be fine. It’s hard enough to settle in to a new team, but to do it when your home life’s going through massive changes as well—that’s a lot to ask of anyone.’

‘Maybe. I’m sorry if people think I’ve been snooty.’

‘Just a little standoffish. Shy, even.’ She smiled. ‘They’re a nice bunch. And they don’t judge. Obviously I’m not going to tell anyone what you’ve said to me, but if you feel like opening up at any time you’d get a good response. There are enough parents in the department who could give you a few tips on handling teenagers, though I think the big one is to stock up on cake and chocolate. That’s what my best friend’s mum did, anyway.’

‘And do you get on with your parents now?’

* * *

Tricky question. Erin knew that her mother still didn’t believe her about Creepy Leonard, and blamed Erin for the break-up of that relationship as well as for what had happened to Mikey. ‘We get along,’ she said carefully. Which was true enough. She and her mother managed to be coolly civil to each other on the rare occasions they accidentally met. But neither of her parents had been there for her when she’d needed them most; her father had been too cocooned in feeling guilty about leaving his family for someone else, and her mother had already thrown her out. And her brother, Mikey, was already paying the price for helping her earlier.

She’d never forgive herself for it. If she hadn’t called him in tears, hadn’t confided in him about what had happened to her, he would never have come to her rescue—and he would never have had the accident and ended up in a wheelchair.

‘You just do your best,’ she said with a bright smile. ‘So. You said you saw her at weekends and she stayed with you in the holidays. What sort of things did you do together?’

‘Things she finds too babyish now—building sandcastles, or going to the park or the zoo.’ He spread his hands. ‘And how bad is it that I don’t have a clue what my own daughter likes doing?’

‘The teen years are hard. You’re growing up and you don’t want people to treat you as if you’re still a kid—but at the same time you feel awkward around adults. It’s not all your fault,’ Erin said. ‘You said your sister was a deputy head. Can she help?’

‘Liza’s too far away. She lives in York and Caitlin’s only seen her half a dozen times in her life. Though obviously Liza deals with teens every day at work, so I asked her advice. She just said to take it slowly and give it time.’

‘That’s really good advice.’ Erin paused. ‘What about your mum?’

He sighed. ‘She tries. Caitlin goes to her place after school until I’ve finished at work and can pick her up. But there’s quite a generation gap between them and Caitlin doesn’t really talk to her, either.’

‘It sounds like a vicious circle—the harder you try, the more distance you end up putting between you all.’

‘Yeah. You’re right. We need help.’ He looked bleak. ‘Though I feel bad about burdening you.’

‘You’re not burdening me. I asked you what was wrong, and I offered to help. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to,’ she pointed out. ‘I remember what it was like for me. And I was difficult at fifteen. Rude, surly, wouldn’t let anyone close. I was the original nightmare teenager.’

‘And it got better?’

With her dad, at least; though they weren’t that close. ‘Yes.’

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘It feels as if you’ve just taken a massive weight off my shoulders.’

And, oh, when he smiled like that... It made Erin’s heart do a funny little flip.

Which was completely inappropriate.

If they’d met at a different time in his life, things might’ve been different. But he didn’t need the extra complications of a relationship—especially with someone who had baggage like hers and didn’t believe in love any more.

So platonic it would be. It was all she could offer him. ‘That’s what friends are for,’ she said. ‘Though, be warned, you might think the weight’s back again plus a bit more, when I’ve had you weeding and carting heavy stones about and then muscles you’ve forgotten you had suddenly start to ache like mad.’

‘As you say—that’s what friends are for.’ He smiled again. ‘Thanks for lunch. My shout, next.’

‘OK. But I’m afraid I have to dash, now—I have clinic,’ she said, glancing at her watch.