I'm sure you can guess what this is about! I just had to write a story after yesterday's episode. I think it's going to be two chapters, but knowing me, it could end up being three or four or thirty-four. I hope you enjoy it. (Those who are fans of Richard Winsor's ballets will understand the swan reference. Those who don't will just think I'm crazy so I'd better explain that he played the Swan in Swan Lake.)
Cal rocked his daughter in his arms, a smile on his face. She looked back at him, her eyes fixed on him. She wouldn't be able to see him yet: he was just a blur, but she knew he was her daddy just as he knew she was his daughter.
She was so beautiful. Her small mouth was curved into a smile as she looked at Cal. Ethan insisted that it was just wind, but Cal knew it was a smile. A smile for him.
He barely glanced up when Ethan came home. He was too busy looking and staring and smiling and wondering how he could possibly have made something so perfect. It was something he thought about at least a hundred times a day, but the sight of her never failed to fill him with excitement and wonder and love. He believed the feeling would never fade. He imagined hearing her say Daddy for the first time; watching her take her first steps; taking her to school; waiting in the shadows with a cricket bat as she came home from her first date; leading her down the aisle when she'd found the one man who was special enough to deserve her.
No, his feelings would never change.
"I can't believe she's mine, Ethan," said Cal with a catch in his voice.
"Well, she might not be," said Ethan. "You haven't got the results of the paternity test yet."
Cal took his eyes from Matilda to give Ethan the briefest glare. "Of course she's mine! Look at her, Ethan. Look how she's looking at me. How can she not be mine?"
"She's looking at you because you've been looking after her and that's made her love you," said Ethan. "It's not because of some innate knowledge that she and nobody else has."
"No: it's because of innate knowledge we both have!" said Cal. He moved the baby into an upright position and moved her gently up and down, making her gurgle happily. "She's mine, Ethan. I'm only taking this test to make you happy. She's my daughter and I don't need any test to prove it."
He lifted her further up in the air so his arms were at full stretch. He tilted his head back so he could look up at her, holding her at an angle so he could look into her face. His heart throbbed with love and he slowly lowered her into another hug, thinking how amazingly lucky he was and that every tear he'd shed over Taylor had been worth it. He'd spent the last six months or so wishing he'd never met her, but he didn't regret a thing now. (Except taking Ethan's money, of course.) It had all been leading up to the most important moment of his life: the miracle of Matilda.
Ethan sat beside Cal and ticked Matilda under the chin. For a moment, his face assumed the soppy look Cal was sure his own face wore almost constantly, but then it was gone and he looked worriedly at Cal. "Maybe you should give her to me now."
Cal laughed. "She's irresistible, isn't she? Even your heart's melting."
"No, it's not that," said Ethan. "I'm just worried about you."
"There's no need to worry about me, Ethan," said Cal shortly. "I'm taking to fatherhood like a swan to water."
An agonised expression suffused Ethan's face. "I know, Cal. And that's why I'm worried. You're getting too attached. If the paternity test says Matilda isn't your daughter…"
Cal was annoyed. "Of course it's going to say she's my daughter! Because she is. Look at how we've bonded together. And she looks like me, doesn't she? She's got my nose."
"Possibly," admitted Ethan unwillingly. "Your noses are quite similar. But there are only a limited number of shapes a nose can be."
"And she has blue eyes," said Cal, smiling in adoration as they looked towards Cal once more.
"Cal, a lot of babies are born with blue eyes," said Ethan. "That doesn't mean anything. I was born with blue eyes."
"Then she takes after you and that proves she's mine!" said Cal.
Ethan shook his head helplessly. "Cal, please. Listen to me."
"Why should I?" said Cal. "As far as I can tell, you're just talking rubbish."
Ethan held up his hands. "Okay. Fine. I can see I'm not getting anywhere." Then he put his hand on Cal's arm. "But if it does all go wrong, you know I'll be here."
"What could possibly go wrong?" said Cal.
Ethan didn't answer that.
"What's this?" exclaimed Ethan from the kitchen.
"What's what?" said Cal, playing for time. He knew he was doing the right thing, but he wasn't expecting Ethan to understand. Cal bent his head and began to kiss the sleeping child in his arms. "I love you, Matilda. I love you." He kissed across her forehead and down one cheek. "Who's the most beautiful girl in the world, then?" he cooed between kisses. "I used to think it was your mummy, but it's not anymore." He kissed her chin. "The most beautiful girl in the world is… Matilda!"
Ethan came out of the kitchen. He looked tense. "What's the cake for?"
"It's for a celebration," said Cal.
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "To celebrate the fact Matilda is ours?"
"Well, don't you think that's worth a celebration?" said Cal.
"But you don't know if it's true!" Ethan burst out in frustration. "You haven't even got the results yet."
"They'll probably come tomorrow," said Cal. He started to kiss Matilda's other cheek and stopped to yawn. "Sorry, darling. I didn't get much very sleep last night. A very, very beautiful young lady kept me awake all night!" He kissed her nose. "But that's okay. Why would anyone want to sleep when they could be looking at you?"
Ethan's voice was little more than a whisper. "Cal, what if she isn't yours?"
Cal sighed. "Ethan, we've been through all this. She's mine." He looked at the sleeping baby. "Aren't you, Matilda? You're mine, aren't you? I'm your daddy!"
"I'll… I'll go and put the dinner on," said Ethan in a trembling voice.
Cal looked at him in surprise. "Ethan, are you okay?"
Ethan gave a quick smile. "Yes. Of course. Never better. I'll just go and…" He motioned towards the kitchen.
"No need," said Cal. "I've already done it." He heard the timer go off. "But you could go and get it out of the oven if you wanted to be useful."
"Useful," muttered Ethan as he went off towards the kitchen. "What use am I now?"
Cal looked down at the envelope in his hands. It was impossible to tell exactly what it was, yet he knew.
He didn't know why he was trembling. He knew Matilda was his daughter. They had a real bond that couldn't have developed between a man and someone else's child. He knew it was possible to learn to care for a baby who wasn't yours, but that took time. With Matilda, it had been instant.
A small cry from Matilda provided a welcome distraction. Cal put the envelope down on the table and went over to her cot. It looked like she was drifting off to sleep again, but Cal decided to stay and make sure. He pushed down the side of the cot and knelt beside it, one hand gently stroking her cheek.
"You're mine," he whispered. I know you're mine. You always will be mine." He took her fat little hand in his and felt it curl around his. "And I'm yours. I'm your daddy and I'm always going to be here. You're my little princess and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. Nothing in the world." He felt a tear trickle down his cheek. "That letter doesn't matter. It's only going to tell us what we already know; what we knew from the start. I only did the stupid test for Uncle Ethan: because he can't see what's right in front of his nose. But when he gets home, I'm going to show him the letter and then we're going to eat that cake I bought and celebrate." He bent to kiss her nose, almost exactly like his own. "I'm afraid I can't let you have any cake, darling. But I'll hold you close to it so you can see it and smell it. I'll take pictures of you so when you're older, we can look back on the special moment together." Another tear fell. "And then we can all get on with the rest of our lives as a family. You, me, and Uncle Ethan."
Ethan arrived home to the sound of crying. This wasn't unusual: not now. He quite often arrived home from work to discover Cal wrestling with a nappy. The first time it had happened, Cal had given up and gone off in a sulk, leaving Ethan to do the work, but he was much more experienced now. Most of the time, he didn't even let Ethan help him.
But Cal wasn't changing a nappy. He was holding Matilda on her shoulder, hugging her so tightly, Ethan would have been worried about suffocation if she hadn't been displaying such a healthy set of lungs. Cal was murmuring shakily and incoherently to Matilda. His eyes were red and swollen.
Ethan moved to sit beside him, but there was something on the cushion beside Cal. An opened envelope with a letter folded on top of it. All Ethan could see was Cal's address and the hospital's address, but that was enough.
He looked at Cal. There was a lump in Ethan's own throat as he put his arm around his brother. "I'm sorry, Cal. I'm so sorry."
Cal lifted his head and looked at Ethan blankly.
"I saw the letter," said Ethan. "I didn't read it, but I guessed it was about the paternity test. Then I saw you'd been crying… I really am so sorry."
"I was crying with happiness, Ethan!" said Cal, and smiled as his eyes filled again. "I'm Matilda's daddy! Just like I told you."