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“How is the restaurant planning going?” she asked, an obvious attempt to direct the conversation elsewhere.
“Really good. Mac’s submitted the plans for building approval and is ready to start as soon as they get the go-ahead. Lachlan’s already cooking up a storm creating a new menu.”
“Those brothers of yours don’t let the grass grow when they get an idea, do they?” Bailey said with an affectionate smile.
Quinn tried to smile back, but it was clear she didn’t include him in the same category as his aspirational siblings. No wonder she didn’t think him father material. Having no idea how to respond, he was glad when Daphne arrived with their meals.
“Thanks,” they said in unison.
“You’re welcome. Shout if you need anything else.”
As Daphne left again, Quinn picked up one half of his sandwich and took a bite. It was good, but he couldn’t fully enjoy it. He glanced across at Bailey and saw that she seemed to be having similar issues. Although she’d torn off a piece of frittata with her fork, she didn’t look too keen on the idea of putting it in her mouth.
He nodded toward her plate. The frittata looked and smelled amazing, but she’d turned a little green again. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” She shoved the fork in her mouth and looked as if she might gag.
“So,” she said when she’d swallowed that mouthful, “1950s rock ’n’ roll. Do you want me to talk directly to Lachlan about the food? See what he can do in keeping with the theme?”
When he nodded, she continued. “Would you like a band or a DJ? I know a group that specializes in music from that era. They are the best, but they might be a little pricey.”
“Money isn’t an issue. I want this night to be special for Mom. Can you see if this band is available?”
She nodded and jotted down another note. “Do you still want to hire a marquee?”
“Yes, I think so. Pity the new restaurant won’t be ready in time.”
“I’ll also need a guest list for numbers. And we’ll need to work out tables and chairs and...” She continued listing off various things.
Quinn’s head spun with the decisions to be made, but he didn’t want her to think he couldn’t even handle a simple birthday party, so he attempted to keep up.
“If you have time, we can head on over to the stationers after lunch and select the invitations, or would you prefer to use the Paperless Post app?” Bailey took another sip of her soda.
“Nah, let’s do proper invitations.” He continued with his sandwich as she chattered on about other things they needed to decide on. He tried to sound enthusiastic, but he guessed that later he likely wouldn’t be able to remember half of the things they’d discussed. His head was too full of baby. Bailey pushed her food around on her plate, but he couldn’t help noticing she didn’t eat any more. He bit his tongue to stop himself from asking her how bad the morning sickness was and suggesting she try some ginger tea.
As he swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, a woman with a pram approached their table. It took a second for Quinn to recognize her, as he was so focused on the baby. He guessed it was about six months old and it had thick, dark curls framing its cute, dimpled face.
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