“Well, this is the life of a resident, Ax. I’ll eat and sleep when I have time, which won’t be today. I have to finish up here, and then I have to take Carrie shoe shopping and head straight back to the hospital. It’s a full moon, so the ER will probably be nuts all night long. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me; just stop jumping down my damned throat. I have enough shit on my plate.”

“Let me do it,” he said.

“Let you jump down my throat?” I asked, exasperated with him. “Is there any possible way you could manage to control your possessive bullshit for—”

“No,” he said, cutting me off. “Let me take Carrie shoe shopping. That will give you a few hours to eat a decent meal and maybe catch a nap.”

“You don’t have to do that, Axel. It’s my job to take care of her.”

“Well, I’m making it my job. She’s my daughter, too. Let me help you, Bear. I want to.” His voice was soft and pleading as he pulled an errant piece of hair back behind my ear.

It would be nice to catch a couple of hours of sleep, but… “Ax, you don’t even know what to get.”

“Then tell me her size and what she needs. I’ll figure it out. I may be a big, dumb jock, but I’m sure I could manage to help my kid pick out shoes. After all, I survived Chuck E. Cheese. That big rat freaks me the fuck out, by the way.”

“He’s a mouse, not a rat,” I said, laughing at the grimace on his face. “She’s in a size eleven now, so I don’t know if she’ll need an eleven and a half or a twelve. If you go to a shoe store, they will be able to measure her and determine which size she needs.”

“So, she needs sneakers, or what?”

“A pair of sneakers, some black dress shoes, and then some casual shoes. Are you sure about this?” His answering nod was resolute, so I reached into my purse. “I’ll give you my debit card and my PIN number…”

“I’m not taking your money, Blaire,” he said firmly, rolling his eyes. “In fact, we need to get together some time and talk about what you think is fair for back child support.”

“Ba-back child support? Are you serious, Axel? We are not doing that.”

His face lit up with anger again. “Why not, Blaire. I want to take care of my responsibilities. I helped you make our daughter, and I’m damn sure going to pay for the past almost five years when I wasn’t there to help you.”