We had settled into a bit of a routine and, not knowing when or if Maggie was going to call Mama or Myra for help, I just went about the chores around the house and did my best to make myself useful. Of course, I was loving my time with Maggie and Layla too, but the bonding thing seemed to be all about mother and child at the moment, and this being my first experience as a new father I just assumed that was how it was supposed to be. I had started taking a long walk everyday after breakfast, as this was usually when Maggie and Layla napped, so I took the hour or two to get out.

I hadn’t told Maggie this, but I liked to drop in at the office and just check in with the guys at work. Funny, it was the single guys who kidded me about being up there on my “pregnancy leave” but it was the married guys with kids who understood.

I’d end my walk every morning at the bakery and, this morning, on my way up the stairs to the apartment with my usual Danish and coffee in hand, I was surprised to hear voices in the hallway at the end of the stair landing.