Capturing The Single Dad's Heart
‘It’s been that bad?’ Erin asked sympathetically.
Mr Bishop nodded. ‘The pain’s been terrible. Rest doesn’t help and the tablets don’t seem to work any more. My doctor said I’d have to have surgery—I was dreading the idea of being stuck in hospital for weeks, but Mr Townsend said that I’d only be in for a few days.’ He gave her a weary smile. ‘I just want to be able to play football with my kids again and get back to my job.’
‘The surgery will make things much better,’ Nate promised. ‘I know we talked about it before, but I’d like to run through the situation again to make sure you’re happy about what’s happening.’
Mr Bishop nodded.
‘Basically what happens is that the nerves in your spine run down a tunnel called the spinal canal. You’ve had a lot of wear and tear on your spine, and that makes the spinal canal narrower; that means it squeezes the nerves when you stand or walk, which is why you’re getting pain. What I want to do is put a spacer between two of the bones in your spine, and that will relieve the pressure and stop the pain. Now, you haven’t eaten anything since last night?’
‘No, though I’m dying for a cup of tea,’ Mr Bishop admitted.
Nate smiled. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get your cup of tea this afternoon. I’ll get the pre-op checks organised now and I’m going to operate on you at two. The operation’s going to be under a local anaesthetic, but you’ll also be sedated so you won’t remember anything about it afterwards. You’ll be lying face down during the operation on a special curved mattress; that will reduce the pressure on your chest and pelvis, and also give me better access to your spine.’
‘How long will the operation take?’ Mr Bishop asked.
‘It should be about an hour or so, depending on what I find—but from your scan it looks pretty straightforward.’
‘That’s great.’ Mr Bishop smiled. ‘I still can’t believe I’ll be able to go home again in a couple of days. I thought I’d be stuck in here for weeks.’
‘You’re not going to be able to go straight back to work or to drive for the first few weeks after the operation,’ Nate warned, ‘and you’ll need to do physiotherapy and exercises. They’ll start about four weeks after the op—and in the meantime it’ll be better for you to sit on a high, hard chair than a soft one with a low back.’
‘And no bending or lifting?’
‘Absolutely. Listen to whatever the physiotherapist tells you,’ Nate said. ‘This is a newish procedure, Mr Bishop. I do need to tell you that, because it’s so new, there’s a very small possibility the spacer might move in the future or need replacing.’
‘If it takes the pain away, I can cope with that.’
Nate talked Mr Bishop through the likely complications and all the possible consequences of the operation, then asked him to sign the consent form. ‘I’ll see you later this afternoon,’ he said with a smile.
* * *
Later that afternoon, watching Nate perform in Theatre, Erin was spellbound. His instructions to Theatre staff were clear, he was polite as well as precise and he talked her through every single step of the operation, explaining the methodology and what it would do for the patient.
With their patient and in Theatre, he was a completely different man, she thought. Not the cool, critical and judgemental stranger he’d been in the meeting. This man had deft, clever hands and really knew his stuff—and he treated everyone around him as his equal. She noticed that he made the time to thank every member of the team at the end of the operation, too.
This Nate Townsend, she thought, was a man she’d like to get to know.
And she understood now why so many of her colleagues had dubbed him the sexiest surgeon in the hospital. The only bit of his face she could see clearly was his eyes—a gorgeous, sensual dark blue. And the combination of intelligence and clever hands made a shiver of pure desire run down her spine.
Which was totally inappropriate.
She was here to observe, not to go off in some ridiculous, lust-filled daydream.
‘Thank you for letting me observe, today,’ she said when they’d both scrubbed out. ‘That was really useful. I can talk to patients with spinal stenosis about their options with a lot more authority now.’
‘No problem. And if you have any questions about the procedure later, come and find me.’
He actually smiled at her, then, and she caught her breath. When he smiled like that—a smile that came from inside, more than just politeness—he was utterly gorgeous.
And he was probably involved with someone. Given that he kept everyone at a distance, she’d bet that his home life was full of complications. And none of those complications were any of her business.
‘See you tomorrow,’ she said, feeling slightly flustered.
‘Yeah.’
* * *
Once Nate was happy that Kevin Bishop and his other patients from Theatre that afternoon had settled back on the ward and there were no complications following surgery, he finished writing up his notes. And then he braced himself for the drive to his mother’s house.
Guilt flooded through him. What kind of a father was he, to dread picking up his own daughter? But being her full-time parent—the one with total responsibility—was a far cry from being the part-time dad who saw her for a few snatched days in school holidays and odd weekends. Before Caitlin had come to live with him, they hadn’t spent long enough together at a stretch to run out of things to talk about. Now, it was the other way round: he had all the time he could’ve wanted with her, and not a clue what to say.
As he’d half expected, Caitlin wasn’t in the mood for talking.
‘How was your day?’ he asked as he pulled away from the kerb.
Her only answer was a shrug.
Great. What did he ask now? Clearly she didn’t want to talk about school or her friends—he didn’t even know whether she’d made friends, yet, because she always sidestepped the question whenever he asked.
Food would be a safe subject, surely? ‘Do you fancy pizza for dinner tonight?’
A shake of her head. ‘Your mother already cooked for me.’
As part of her protest about being forced to move from Devon to London, Caitlin had shut off from Sara, her paternal grandmother; she avoided calling Sara anything at all, just as she’d stopped calling Nate ‘Dad’. He had no idea how to get round that without starting another row—and he was trying to pick his battles carefully.
By the time he’d thought of another topic, they were home. Not that Caitlin considered his house as her real home, and he was beginning to wonder if she ever would. Though neither of them had any choice in the matter.
‘Do you have much homework?’ he tried as he unlocked the front door.
‘I’ve already done it. Do you have to be on my case all the time?’ she demanded.
It took her five seconds to run up the stairs. Two more to slam her bedroom door.
And that would be the last he saw of her, that evening.
He didn’t have a clue what to do now. Stephanie had made it clear that it was his turn to deal with their daughter, and being a full-time dad was as much of a shock to the system for him as it was for Caitlin. Of course he understood that it was hard starting at a new school and being away from the friends you’d known since you were a toddler, but Caitlin had been in London for a month now and things still hadn’t got any better.
He’d rather face doing the most complicated and high-risk spinal surgery for twenty-four hours straight than face his teenage daughter. At least in Theatre he had some clue what he was doing, whereas here he was just a big fat failure. He didn’t know what to do to make things better. When he’d tried asking her, she’d just rolled her eyes, said he was clueless, stomped upstairs and slammed her bedroom door.
Why was parenting a teenage girl so much harder than the job he’d trained for more than ten years to do?
And how was he ever going to learn to get it right?
He grabbed his mobile phone and headed out to the back garden. Hopefully Caitlin would be less likely to overhear this particular conversation if he was outside; he didn’t want her to misunderstand and think he was complaining about her. And then he called his ex-wife.
‘What now?’ was Stephanie’s snapped greeting.
He sighed inwardly. Caitlin had definitely inherited her mother’s hostile attitude towards him. ‘How are you, Steph?’
‘Fine.’ She sounded suspicious. ‘Why are you calling?’
‘Because I need help,’ he admitted. ‘I’m absolutely rubbish at this parenting business.’
‘You can’t send her back here,’ Stephanie said. ‘Not after the way she’s been with Craig.’
‘I know.’ Caitlin had been just as hostile towards Nate’s now-ex-girlfriend. Though, if he was honest with himself, the relationship with Georgina had been on its last legs anyway. If the final row hadn’t been over Caitlin, it would’ve been about something else, and he was pretty sure they would’ve broken up by now. Maybe Stephanie’s new marriage had slightly firmer foundations. For her sake, he hoped so. ‘I don’t know what to say to her. How to get through to her. All she does is roll her eyes at me and slam her bedroom door.’
‘She’s a teenage girl.’
‘I know, but they’re not all like that. Not all the time. And she wasn’t like that when she visited me or I came down to Devon.’
‘So it’s my fault?’
‘No. I don’t want to fight with you, Steph.’
‘But you’re judging me for putting my relationship before her.’
‘No, I’m not,’ he said tiredly. ‘Who am I to judge, when I put my career before both of you?’
‘I’m glad you can see that now,’ Stephanie said.
Nate told himself silently not to rise to the bait. It was an old argument and there were no winners.
‘Well, you’ll just have to keep trying. Because she can’t come back here,’ Stephanie warned. ‘She’s your daughter, too, and it’s your turn to look after her.’
‘Yeah.’ Nate knew that asking his ex for help had been a long shot. Given that Stephanie had spent the last ten years hating him for letting her down, of course she wouldn’t make this easy for him now. And he knew that most of the fault was his. He hadn’t been there enough when Stephanie had been struggling with a demanding toddler, and he hadn’t supported her as much as he should have... It wasn’t surprising that she’d walked out and taken the baby halfway across the country with her.
Maybe he should’ve sucked it up and gone after her. Or at least moved closer so that access to their daughter wasn’t so difficult. Even though he had a sneaking suspicion that Stephanie would’ve moved again if he’d done that.
In the end they’d compromised, with Nate doing his best to support his daughter and ex-wife financially by working hard and rising as fast as he could through the ranks. He’d called Caitlin twice a week, trying to speak to her before her bedtime even when he was at work, and then as soon as video calling became available he’d used that—though Steph had made pointed comments about him being the ‘fun parent’ buying their daughter expensive technology. But without that he would’ve been limited to the odd weekend and visits in the school holidays. He hadn’t bought the tablet to score points or rub in the fact that he was making good money—he’d simply wanted to see his daughter as much as he could, even though they lived so far apart.
‘Thanks anyway,’ he said, hoping that Stephanie would take it for the anodyne and polite comment it was rather than assume that he was being sarcastic and combative, and ended the call.
Being a new single dad to a teen was the most frustrating, awkward thing he’d ever done in his life.
But he’d have to find a way to make this work. For all their sakes.
CHAPTER TWO
NATE HAD DARK shadows under his eyes, Erin noticed. And, although he was being completely professional with their patients, she could see the suppressed misery in his eyes.
I shouldn’t bring my baggage to work.
His words from the previous day echoed in her head. Right at that moment, it looked to her as if he was fighting a losing battle. Clearly whatever was bothering him had stopped him getting a decent night’s sleep.
OK, so he’d rebuffed her yesterday when she’d offered to listen. But that didn’t mean she should give up on him. Erin knew what it was like to be in a bad place—and she’d been lucky enough to have her best friend’s mother to bat her corner when she’d really needed it. Maybe Nate didn’t have someone in his life like Rachel. So maybe, just maybe, she could help.
Which would be a kind of payback. Something to help lessen the guilt that would never go away.
At the end of their rounds, she said, ‘Can we have a quick word?’
He looked confused, but shrugged. ‘Sure. What can I do for you?’
‘Shall we talk over lunch?’ she suggested. ‘My shout.’
He frowned, suspicion creeping in to his expression. ‘Is this anything to do with the sensory garden?’
‘Absolutely not. No strings,’ she promised. ‘A sandwich and coffee in the staff canteen. And no haranguing you about my pet project. Just something I wanted to run by you.’
‘OK. See you in my office at, what, half-past twelve?’ he suggested. ‘Though obviously that depends on our patients. One of them might need some extra time.’
She liked the fact that even though he was clearly struggling to deal with his personal life, he was still putting his patients first. ‘That’d be great. I’ll come and collect you.’
Erin spent the rest of the morning in clinic, and to her relief everything ran on time. Nate’s pre-surgery consultations had clearly also gone well, because he was sitting at his desk in his office when she turned up at half-past twelve.
‘I’ll just save my file,’ he said, and tapped a few buttons on his computer keyboard while she waited.
In the staff canteen, she bought them both a sandwich and coffee, plus a blueberry muffin, and directed him to find them a quiet table in the corner.
‘Cake?’ he asked when she turned up at their table.
‘Absolutely. Cake makes everything better,’ she said.
‘So what can I do for you?’ he asked, looking slightly wary.
‘Yesterday, you said that you didn’t know me.’
He winced. ‘Sorry. That was rude. I didn’t mean it to sound as mean as that.’
‘I’m not trying to make you feel bad about what you said,’ she said. ‘What I mean is that we all go through times when we can’t see the wood for the trees, and sometimes it helps to talk to someone who’s completely not connected with the situation—someone who might have a completely different viewpoint.’
He didn’t look convinced.
‘So I guess I’m repeating my offer from yesterday,’ she finished.
‘That’s very kind of you, but—’ he began.
‘Don’t say no,’ she broke in. ‘Just eat your lunch and think about it.’
‘Why are you being so kind?’ he asked. ‘Because you don’t know me, either.’
‘I don’t have any weird ulterior motive,’ she said. ‘It’s kind of payback. You know—what goes around, comes around. In the past, I was in a tough situation when I really needed to talk to someone. I was lucky, because someone was there for me. So now it’s my turn to be that person for someone else.’
‘As in me?’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Got you.’
Though she noticed that he still looked worried. And she could guess why. ‘For the record,’ she said gently, ‘I’m not a gossip. Whatever you say to me will go nowhere else. And right now I think you really do need to talk to someone, because you look like hell.’
He smiled, then. ‘And you tell it like it is.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s the easiest way. So just eat your cake and think about it, yes?’
* * *
Nate knew that he really didn’t deserve this. But, oh, it was so tempting to take up Erin’s offer. If nothing else, she might help him to see things from Caitlin’s point of view so he could understand what was going on in his daughter’s head. Since Caitlin had come to live with him, he’d never felt more alone.
He believed Erin when she said she wasn’t a gossip. He’d never heard her talk about other people in the staff room in their absence. Besides, the kind of people who organised departmental evenings out and collections for gifts for colleagues weren’t the kind of people who took pleasure in tearing people down.
Even though he barely knew her, he had the strongest feeling that he could trust her.
And maybe she had a point. Talking to someone who didn’t know either of them might help him see his way through this. Then maybe he could be the father Caitlin so clearly needed. ‘You’re sure about this?’ he asked. ‘Because it’s a long story and it’s not pretty. I...’ He dragged in a breath. ‘Right now, I don’t like myself very much.’
‘Nothing’s beautiful all the time, and if you have regrets about a situation then it’s proof that you’re willing to consider making changes to improve things,’ she said. ‘And it might not be as bad as you think. Try me.’
‘Thank you.’ But where did he start? ‘It’s my daughter,’ he said eventually.
‘You’re a new dad?’ she asked. ‘Well, that would explain the shadows under your eyes. Not enough sleep, thanks to your newborn.’
He gave her a wry smile. ‘Yes to the sleepless nights bit—but it’s complicated.’
She simply spread her hands and smiled back, giving him space to make sense of things in his own head rather than barging in with questions. Funny how that made it so much easier to talk to her.
‘I’m sort of a new dad, but Caitlin’s not a newborn,’ he explained. ‘She’s thirteen.’
* * *
Nate had a thirteen-year-old daughter.
So did that mean he was married? Well, good, Erin thought. That would make him absolutely out of bounds. Any relationship between them would have to be strictly platonic. She was aware that made her a coward, choosing to spend her time with people she knew were unavailable so were therefore safe: but she’d turned her life round now and she wasn’t going to risk letting everything go off track again.
But then again, he’d just said he was a new dad. How? Was he fostering the girl?
Giving him a barrage of questions would be the quickest way to make him close up again; but silence would be just as bad. ‘Thirteen’s a tough age,’ she said, hoping that she didn’t sound judgemental.
‘And she doesn’t get on with her mother’s new husband.’
New husband? Oh, help. So Nate wasn’t married, then—or, at least, he wasn’t married to the mother of his daughter.
‘She didn’t get on with my now ex-girlfriend, either.’
Meaning that Nate was single. Which in turn meant he was no longer safe. Erin masked her burgeoning dismay with a kind smile.
‘And I have absolutely no idea how to connect with my daughter.’ He sighed. ‘Anyone would think I was eighty-five, not thirty-five.’
So if Caitlin was thirteen now, Nate had been quite young when she was born. Not even fully qualified as a doctor, let alone as a surgeon.
Clearly her thoughts showed in her expression, as he sighed again. ‘I’m sure you’ve already done the maths and worked out that we had Caitlin when we were young. Too young, really. Steph was twenty-one and I was twenty-two. We hadn’t actually planned to have Caitlin at that point, but we didn’t want the alternative, so we got married. We thought at the time it would work out because we loved each other and we’d manage to muddle through it together.’
Yeah. Erin knew that one. Except loving someone wasn’t always enough to make things work out. Particularly when the feelings weren’t the same on both sides. And particularly when you were too young to realise that it took more strength to let go than to hold on and hope you could change the other person, instead of making the sensible decision to walk away before things got seriously messy. She’d learned that the hard way.
But this wasn’t about her baggage. It was about helping Nate.
‘It’s pretty hard to cope with normal life when you’re a junior doctor,’ she said, ‘let alone a baby.’
‘Tell me about it,’ he said ruefully. ‘I was working—well, you know yourself the hours you work when you’re a junior doctor. So I was too tired to take over baby duties from Steph when I got home from work. She’d had to put her plans on hold. Instead of doing a postgraduate course to train as a teacher, she was stuck at home with the baby all day and every day, so I totally understand why she was fed up with me. I should’ve done a lot more and supported her better.’
‘You were working long hours and studying as well. All you can do is your best,’ Erin said.
‘I tried, but it wasn’t enough. Steph left me in the end, when Caitlin was three. They moved away.’ He grimaced. ‘I should’ve moved with them instead of staying in London.’
‘You’re a spinal surgeon,’ Erin pointed out. ‘There aren’t spinal units in every single hospital in the country, and you were, what, twenty-five when she left?’ At his nod, she continued, ‘Back then you would still have been studying for your surgeon’s exams. Even if you’d found another spinal unit close to wherever Steph and Caitlin had moved, there’s no guarantee they would’ve had a training place for you. It’s not like working in an emergency department or in maternity, where there’s a bit more flexibility and you can move hospitals a little more easily if you have to.’
‘It’s still my fault. Maybe I specialised too soon, or I should’ve just stopped being selfish and realised I couldn’t follow my dreams. Maybe I should’ve compromised by moving specialties and working in the emergency department instead,’ he said. ‘Steph and Caitlin ended up living in Devon, a five-hour drive from me. So I got to see her on the odd weekend, and she used to come and stay with me sometimes in the holidays, but that’s nothing like living with someone all the time. I feel as if we’re almost strangers. And she hates living with me.’
‘So why is she living with you? Is her mum ill?’
‘No.’ He winced. ‘As I said, she didn’t get on with her mum’s new husband. Steph said Caitlin’s a nightmare teenager and it was about time I did my share of parenting—so she sent Caitlin to live with me.’
Erin went cold.
A difficult teenager who didn’t get on with her mother’s new man, kicked out of home by her mother and sent to live with her father. Erin knew that story well. Had lived through every second of it in misery herself, thirteen years ago. ‘When did this happen?’
‘Just over a month ago.’
A few days before he’d started his new job. Not great timing for either of them. And now Erin understood exactly why Nate didn’t socialise with the team. He needed to spend the time with his daughter and build their relationship properly.
‘So she’s moved somewhere she doesn’t know, miles away from all her friends and everyone she’s grown up with, and she’s got to settle in to a new school as well.’
‘Which would be a huge change for anyone,’ he agreed, ‘but it’s harder still when you’re thirteen years old. And I’m clueless, Erin. I don’t know how to deal with this. I’m way out of my depth. I asked Steph what to do, and...’ He stopped abruptly.
Clearly his ex hadn’t been able to help much. Or maybe she hadn’t been willing to offer advice. Erin knew that one first-hand, too. Erin’s mother had washed her hands of her, the day she’d kicked Erin out. And even now, all these years later, their relationship was difficult.
But Erin liked the fact that Nate was clearly trying hard to be fair and shoulder his share of the blame for things going wrong, rather than refusing to accept any responsibility and claiming that it was all his ex’s fault. ‘It sounds to me as if you need a friend—someone’s who’s been there and understands thirteen-year-old girls,’ she said carefully.
He blinked. ‘You’re telling me you have a thirteen-year-old? But you don’t look old enough.’
‘I’m not.’ Though she flinched inwardly. If things had been a little different, she might have had a thirteen-year-old daughter herself right now. But things were as they were. And she still felt a mixture of regret and relief and guilt when she thought about the miscarriage. Regret for a little life that hadn’t really had a chance to start, for the baby she’d never got to know; relief, because when she looked back she knew she hadn’t been mature enough to be a mum at the age of sixteen; and guilt, because she had friends who’d be fantastic parents and were having trouble conceiving, whereas she’d fallen pregnant the very first time she’d had sex. The miscarriage had been her wake-up call, and she’d turned her life round. Studied hard. Passed all her exams, the second time round. Become a doctor. Tried to make a difference and to make up for her mistakes. Not that she would ever be able to make up for the biggest one.