say, I had to ease into all of this myself. Didn't have a clue about it in the beginning. I wasn't expecting you to be a natural like this."
"Told you I was good at it."
Derek laughed. "You know, I think Gaby's right, but then, my mate's a smart lady. This is gonna work out fine."
It was a Saturday, so they had a leisurely morning. Sandy worked on a bit of homework while Dan did the dishes and Derek put Lulu down for a nap.
It was so homey and domestic that Dan could almost forget, for whole minutes at a time, that this wasn't his home. It was someone else's borrowed domesticity that he was enjoying.
He gave in, for a few minutes, to imagining that his mate was here. That this was his house, his kids.
But no, that didn't feel right. It wasn't his house and it wasn't his kids. He was a guest in someone else's warm, cozy family life. And as much as he appreciated them welcoming him in, he could never forget that they weren't his family and he didn't belong.
"Whoa," Sandy said from the doorway, and giggled.
Dan looked around. "What's up, kiddo?"
"I was looking for Dad. I couldn't figure out this math problem." Sandy waved the math page in the air, but his gaze was fixed on Dan's prosthesis. "Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh, just—what's that for?"
"Oh, right, that." Dan looked down at the prosthesis. "It keeps it dry."
He had found a pair of heavy-duty dishwashing gloves under the sink and stuck one of them over the end of the prosthesis. This wasn't something he'd learned from his physical therapist; it was a trick he had figured out himself the first time he had to try to figure out how to do something in the sink without soaking the clamps. Just because the prosthesis could get wet didn't mean it was good for it to be submerged for long periods of time.
"Oh. That makes sense. I'm sorry I laughed."
"Don't be," Dan said. He grinned, and flicked the rubber glove, making the bright yellow fingers wobble as if they were full of Jell-o. "It looks completely ridiculous, you're right. Hey, forget the math. C'mon over here and help me dry. That part's still hard."
"Dad never dries the dishes," Sandy said, but he grabbed a dish towel and joined Dan at the sink.
"Yeah, well, I'm the nanny, so—" So I don't get to half-ass it, was on the tip of his tongue, but then it occurred to him that the kind of friendly trash-talking he was used to doing with his ex-military buddies might not go over so well to a nine-year-old. "So it's my job to do that part too."
"You want me to do your job?" Sandy said. "Do I get paid?"
"You've got the makings of a great lawyer in your future," Dan said, and handed him a dish.
He was a little surprised at himself, finding how easy it was to smile at the kids and settle into an easy rapport with them. Derek had a really great little family here. Dan hoped that Derek knew how good he had it. But of course he did; Derek wasn't a guy who would ever take his family for granted.
"Is it really called that?" Sandy asked. He stared at the plate Dan handed him and then began to scrub it clumsily with the towel. "A nanny, if it's a guy."
"Why not? I don't think there's a specific guy term. You could call me an au pair," Dan added, dredging up the term from some news story he'd seen. Au bear, he added in his head, with a grin he kept to himself.
"Manny," Sandy said.
"I'm not calling myself a manny, you can bet your bottom dollar on that."
Sandy giggled. "We could make up a word for it."
"Like what? Like ... doodle-lally?"
Sandy snort-laughed. "I'm not gonna tell the kids at school you're our doodle-lally."
Dan nudged him. "You got a better word, then?"
"Ummmm ... well, Dad calls himself the chief cook and bottle-washer, sometimes."
"Does that make me the assistant cook and bottle-washer?"
"You're right," Sandy said. "That's not better." He hesitated, looking down at the cup he was drying, and placed it beside its fellow cups. "Do you have kids?"
"No," Dan said, with a fierce twinge. "Not any of my own."
"How did you learn to do all of this, then?"
"Hey, these are useful skills for any man to have. You should learn them too." When Sandy looked skeptical, Dan went on, "Listen, I