Penny had cared for babies born addicted to drugs before and while the first couple of weeks could be very difficult, she relished the thought of watching another baby grow into a happy well adjusted toddler that some lucky couple would be blessed to adopt. Although, in this case, the tiny helpless little girl in front of her could end up going home with her uncle.
She pulled out a fleecy white all-in-one snowsuit from the bag she’d placed on the floor and put the baby’s tiny arms into the sleeves, ready for their trip home.
“What time is best for Adam to visit tomorrow?” Megan asked, putting papers away in the folder. “Shall we sort that out now, or can you two organise it between you?”
“Um, after lunch would be good. It’s less chaotic then. Say around four?” Penny looked at Adam. No way did she want to organise things directly with him, it would mean giving him her phone number. She wasn’t sure she would get through seeing him three times a week without making a blundering idiot of herself.
“Four will be fine, it’ll give me time to do a bit of shopping and hopefully choose a name.” He grinned. The transformation on his slightly thin, serious face made Penny’s stomach clench. Doctor Gorgeous indeed. And he knew it, too.
“Right, I’ll go,” Megan said. “The nurse will officially discharge Baby and I’ll call both of you tomorrow.”
Megan left as quickly as she’d arrived, the sound of her heels echoing down the corridor as she hurried back to her office and the piles of paperwork Penny knew would be waiting for her. She’d worked with Megan on several cases in the past and had learned the other woman worked extremely hard, she really cared about the children on her case list—unfortunately not all social workers were as fastidious. Penny knew that to her own cost.
Penny fastened the baby into the car seat and Adam stooped and picked it up as though it weighed nothing at all. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
She swallowed down her frustration. “Thank you, but it’s really not necessary. I’m used to managing by myself.”
“I’m sure you are.” Adam gave her another megawatt smile. “But you don’t need to today, I’d love the opportunity to do something for my niece.”
How could she argue with that? Penny bit her lip and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, she needed to relax and not let him get to her. She’d judged him harshly in the beginning, thinking he was overbearing, she needed to stop being so suspicious and accept that he was simply a concerned uncle.
Sometimes her need to be a mother hen to every abandoned and needy child wasn’t one of her better qualities, as it had a tendency to blind her to the feelings of other people. Of course, as a foster carer, being maternal was also the most important skill she possessed.
“Thank you,” she said, forcing herself to smile.
The attraction zinging between them had her totally unnerved, she was positive she wasn’t his type and although he was good looking he certainly wasn’t hers. When she did have the time to date she favoured softly spoken, gentle men who she knew would never dominate her.
“So,” he said casually. Penny wasn’t fooled, any conversation that started so innocuously was an attempt to hide something huge. “How many other kids do you foster?”
“Three.” Penny stopped walking at the nurses’ station so they could get Baby’s discharge papers. “Different ages, different challenges.”
“But you’ve cared for newborns before? Dependent newborns?”
“If you’re asking whether I’ve cared for babies with drug dependencies, the answer is yes. I’ve also completed an intensive course specialising in premature babies with parents who were drug addicted.”
He stared at her for a long moment as though thinking of something else to say. Fortunately for her, the small talk stopped as the nurse came back to her desk and started to go through the paperwork.
So he was wary of her and her abilities, she’d heard it all before. Many people doubted she could care for all the children in her care and give each of them adequate time and attention. Penny ensured that she did—she knew from her own childhood how damaging it was to have a parent who was emotionally absent, but physically present.
Adam carried the baby down to the bank of lifts at the end of the corridor and pressed the button to take them down to the ground floor.
“You know I’ll care for your niece as though she’s my own child,” Penny offered. “You don’t need to worry.”
Because I wish she were my own child.
“Thank you,” he said, looking down at the baby rather than at her. “That means a lot to me.”
They walked over to her car in silence, the buzz of the traffic around them seeming louder in the deafening silence their lack of conversation had caused. Penny pulled a small pad of paper out of her bag and wrote out her phone number, passing it to Adam before she could change her mind.
“Ring or text me, whenever you like, to see how she is. I can see you’re worried.”