“What’s going on?” I stare into his darkened gaze, unwilling to glance away. If I’m looking after his daughter, he needs to tell me the truth. I can’t go in blind and risk something happening to her.
Moreno clears his throat and skirts away from me. “Nothing that you need to concern yourself with, nanny.”
I scoff under my breath. “It’s Paige,” I correct him. “Unless you’d prefer me to call you Nova’s father or businessman?”
His jaw is tight, and he shoves his hands into his pants pockets. He’s already dressed for the day, suit, and tie. “Point taken.”
When he doesn’t divulge anything further, I back off and return to the mixing bowl. I drop in a handful of blueberries. “Are you going to tell me why the sudden change of heart?”
He stares at me blankly, like he has no idea what I’m talking about.
“Allowing me to take Nova to the park. Yesterday, you were one hundred percent against it. Today you’re letting us go with a chaperone pretty much wherever we’d like.” It’s hard not to find the sudden shift in his demeanor strange.
He clears his throat and averts his stare, his focus on the floor beside where I stand. “I made an appointment for Nova to see a doctor this Friday. I’m just trying to get ahead of things.”
Doctor?
Moreno grabs a frying pan from another cabinet below and grabs the oil, giving me a hand.
Maybe he’s just using it as a distraction, but I’m appreciative of the help.
“Is everything all right? If she has a health concern, Moreno, I need to be kept in the loop and made aware of any issues, allergies, anything that might affect her while we’re together.”
“It’s not that kind of doctor,” he says, keeping his voice low and just between the two of us.
I’m not sure I know where he’s going with this conversation.
“A child psychologist was recommended to me, and I thought it would be good to have someone for her to talk to.” Moreno winces at his choice of words.
“Oh. Okay. That’s good,” I say, trying to offer my support.
“Anyway, I’m sure she’ll suggest that she try to make friends, engage with other kids her age, that sort of thing. I may as well let you take her to the park.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
Moreno pushes his heels forward and brushes past me, the conversation done for him. “Nova prefers her pancakes to be silver dollars.”
“Thanks.”
He heads out of the kitchen without another word.
I turn the stove down and bring the batter over. “Silver dollar,” I hold up one finger, “or Mickey Mouse pancakes?” I ask Nova, holding up a second finger.
She holds up two fingers and then puts her hands to her head to make Mickey ears.
“Do you want chocolate chips on top?” I ask Nova, already knowing the answer.
Moreno isn’t around. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
Nova’s eyes light up. With the widest grin, she points at the cabinet where her father put the chocolate chips.
Besides, it’s not as though she’s telling him anything.