He pushed open the kitchen door, walked into the dining room, and set the cake on the table.
"Hilary, this is the cake Daddy made for you."
"I don't want it! I don't want it! I don't want Daddy's ugly cake! It's so ugly! I want the fancy cream cake Daddy Patrick is getting me—the one with lots and lots of chocolate!"
Hilary shook her head furiously from Patrick's lap.
"Of course, of course. Daddy Patrick will get it for you." Patrick held her close, his voice dripping with indulgence.
Hildegarde sat beside them, a faint smile on her lips.
In that moment, the three of them looked more like a real family than Wilfred ever had with them.
"Hilary, you can't eat chocolate cake!" Penelope piped up, her voice soft but urgent. "Don't you remember what the doctor said? You and I are both allergic to chocolate. If you eat it, you'll get all red and bumpy!"
"Oh, just a little bit won't hurt!" Patrick waved dismissively, still holding Hilary. But when his gaze shifted to Penelope, a flicker of distaste crossed his face.
Penelope was perceptive. She didn't like Patrick, and he didn't like her.