She rubbed her belly, Nate’s hands covering hers. “Big. He’s been really active today. I think it’s the heat.”
It had been warmer than normal. “Still not going on holiday?” I watched Amber’s expression change to a glare, aimed at Nate.
“Staying within half an hour of the hospital at all times.” Nate’s smile was far more pleasant. “Holiday at home.”
I followed them into the house where Nate had moved at the start of the year. He’d wanted somewhere with more grounds, so his eldest daughter, Libbie, could have a horse and there was more security. He’d also needed to start over in a place that didn’t carry the memory of Chan’s passing.
It was a huge home, but it didn’t feel cold or empty, or full of the usual footballer-style décor with tons of silver and glass. They did have a games room with a full-size snooker table and a gym with an indoor swimming pool, hence I found myself here an awful lot, even if it was to babysit.
“We could’ve gone to Wales or Scotland or the Lake District.” Amber prodded him again. “They have hospitals in places other than Manchester, you know.”
We went into the kitchen, Amber still giving Nate grief about refusing to go away anywhere.
“We can go to Florida next year. And I’ll take you to New York as soon as you’re ready to leave the baby for a few days.” Nate was unmoved by Amber’s protests.
I sat down on a stool at the breakfast bar and listened with amusement, Nate putting a premade smoothie from Kitty’s Café on the table in front of me. Nate was probably the most stubborn person I’d ever met — quietly stubborn, picking his battles with care, and when he did, he didn’t lose.
There had been a couple of scares early on in Amber’s pregnancy — I didn’t quite understand what — and Nate had since needed to always have her near to her consultant. Hence, no holiday for them either.
Amber shook her head and glared at him but said nothing.
“We heard through the grapevine that you aren’t driving for six months.” She just about managed to get herself onto a stool. “What are you going to do about getting around?”
I shrugged. I was kind of hoping this was going to be a bad dream. “I can grab lifts to training. Jude and Danny both pass me, pretty much. I’m not sure I can sit in a car with Jude driving, though.” I couldn’t help the shudder.
“It took him seven times to pass.” Amber accepted the yoghurt Nate passed her, one he’d just garnished with fruit and chocolate sauce.
I tried not to fall off my stool. “Seven times to pass his driving test? What about the theory?”
“He passed that first time. He kept picking up too many minors on the practical, though.” She inhaled a spoonful of the yoghurt, her eyes closing.
“How did you find out?”
“Neva told me. No idea how she knows, though.” Amber took another spoonful. “This is bliss.”
Nate grinned, his eyes fixed on Amber in such a way I wondered if I needed to make myself scarce.
“Where are Libbie and Zara?” I looked as if expecting them to materialise at the sound of their names.
Nate reached out and wiped a drop of chocolate sauce from the side of Amber’s mouth. I was pretty sure if I wasn’t there, he would’ve licked it off.
“They’re with the horse. Jerrica’s looking after them today.” He licked the sauce off his finger.
I put my smoothie down and frowned. “Jerrica’s here?”
Nate nodded. “Yeah, she got back at the weekend.”
“I thought she was moving back to your parents’?”
He looked at me and frowned, shaking his head. “She was staying at their house to look after the puppies while they went on that cruise, but she’s not moving back in with them.”
“So she’s back living here?” This wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. This was almost on the same level as losing my license for six months.
“She was always going to be. The plan’s for her to stay until at least after Christmas, then Amber’s got some support with the baby while I’m at the World Cup.” Nate chugged his smoothie in pretty much one go. “By then, she might’ve decided what she’s going to do.”
I looked anywhere but at Nate and Amber.
Footsteps that sounded heavier than I knew they actually were padded into the kitchen through the open bi-fold doors.
