“She’s six days old,” I murmur, but I’m already folding them both carefully, setting them aside like they’re made of gold.
Lulu softens, moving toward the couch. “She’s perfect, you guys.”
I glance at Carina, who’s watching her with a faint smile, and then at Ivy, still curled safe in her mother’s arms.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “She is.”
The next knock comes with less warning and even less dignity.
“Do not let him in with that thing,” Zoe calls from the foyer, her voice edged in exasperation.
Chase bursts through the door anyway, beaming, arms full of… something.
“What the fuck is that,” I say flatly.
“It’s a gift,” he announces proudly, holding it aloft like a trophy. “For the baby.”
Zoe follows behind him, sunglasses on and sipping an iced coffee like she’s considering divorce, even though they’re not married. “It’s ataxidermy duckin a bonnet.”
“I added the bonnet,” Chase clarifies. “For whimsy.”
The bonnet is pale yellow and is covered in tiny turtles.
Carina is too tired to do more than blink. “Is it… wearing shoes?”
“Little booties,” Chase confirms. “Gotta protect those webbed toes.”
Zoe sighs and drops a beautifully wrapped gift bag on the island. “I also brought a sensible present. Swaddle sets. Organic cotton. No dead animals involved.”
Carina smiles, adjusting Ivy in her arms. “Thank you.”
“Anything for my newest niece.” She smiles softly at the baby, then eyes the duck in Chase’s hands. “I tried to stop him.”
“You didn’t try that hard,” Chase says, then turns to me. “Tell me you’ll display it in the nursery.”
“No.”
“You haven’t even heard—”
“No.”
Chase leans in toward Ivy in Carina’s arms, waving the duck as though it might pass the baby toy test. “She loves it.”
“She’s asleep.”
The front door swings open again, and this time it’s Eli and Tamara, carrying a casserole dish and a gift bag with a ribbon so elaborate it looks like Zoe might’ve tied it.
“Look at you two,” I say. “Domestic royalty.”
“Don’t be jealous just because we still cook,” Tamara replies smoothly, breezing past me to set the casserole down. “It’s gluten-free. I figured Lulu might stick around.”
“She will now,” Carina murmurs.
Eli claps me on the shoulder as he walks in, eyes going straight to the couch. He stops short, the kind of silence that says more than words. Then he exhales low. “Shit, Hutch.”
Carina smiles sleepily. “Hi, Eli.”
“You did good, Doc.”
