Healing The Single Dad's Heart / Just Friends To Just Married?
Joe gave a casual shrug and rolled his eyes. ‘See, Regan? I told you. She doesn’t believe a word we say.’ He gave Lien a slight nudge. ‘Go on, back me up here.’
She turned from Joe to Regan and back to Ann. Rob stood in the background with his arms folded and his head shaking in amusement. It was clear he was used to all this.
Lien started to brush off the nerves. She shook her head. ‘Oh, no. I know how this works. I’m Team Ann.’
Joe’s mother’s face broke into a wide grin and the older woman held up her hand towards the screen. ‘High five!’ she said.
Lien returned the gesture. ‘High five.’ She shifted on the sofa. ‘So, the real story is, yes, your boys are doing fine. The nursery is great and Regan…’ she gave the boy an appreciative nod ‘…is mastering the language better than his dad.’ She gave Joe a quick glance. ‘As for Joe, well…’ she put her hand to her face ‘…where do I start?’
Ann started laughing and Joe leaned forward. He gave Lien a pretend shocked look. ‘What? No way?’
Lien shrugged. ‘Well, he seems to be doing okay in the doctor department but sometimes…’ she gave a slow nod and an amused grin ‘…he needs to be reined in.’
‘Oh, don’t I know it!’ declared Ann.
Lien pretended to look over the back of the sofa. ‘As for the laundry basket… I wouldn’t like to comment.’
Regan was laughing so hard he fell off the edge of the sofa and jumped back up again almost instantaneously. All four adults let out a yelp at once, and then a sigh of relief.
This time Rob stepped forward. He exchanged glances with his wife and put an arm around her waist. ‘We’re so glad to meet you, Lien,’ he said. She could see the genuine appreciation in his eyes. ‘We’re relieved there’s someone to keep an eye on our boys.’
Something panged inside her. They missed Joe and Regan. It was obvious. But there was something else too. Joe had told her that his mother had pushed him in this direction. She could almost see the older couple reaching through the screen and making a grab for the hopefulness they could see. She suddenly realised how this must look.
‘Everyone at the hospital is looking out for them,’ she said quickly.
Ann still had her gaze fixed on Lien, who tried not to look nervous, or shift uncomfortably. She didn’t want his mum and dad getting the wrong idea. She reached a hand out and patted Joe’s leg. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ she said, as she stood up.
Joe gave her a strange look, his gaze fixing on her hand. Of course. She’d just touched his leg. It had been an unwitting move. There had been no intent. But she doubted she’d helped things.
She gave her head a tiny shake and shot him a look of apology. ‘Nice to meet you, Rob and Ann.’ She waved at the screen as Regan climbed onto her vacated spot on the sofa.
She reached the door and glanced back. Regan had started talking again quickly, regaling his grandparents with stories from the nursery. But Joe’s eyes were fixed on hers.
She couldn’t quite tell what the expression on his face meant. Was he angry at her? Annoyed? No.
It was almost like…something else. As if a veil had just lifted from his eyes and he was seeing her in a different light.
The tiny hairs on her arms stood on end as her skin prickled instantly. She lifted her hand in a silent wave and ducked out the door, crossing the ground to her own house in double quick time.
When she opened her own door she closed it firmly behind her and stood for a second, leaning against it. What was wrong with her? Nothing had happened. Nothing had been said. But every cell in her body was on red alert. Her heart was racing. And somehow she knew it wasn’t from her burst of quick walking.
But there was something else. Something more subconscious. His parents were lovely, and clearly good fun. But she’d noticed something. It couldn’t be helped. It was obvious.
They’d been in the garden of their home. Their very large home. She had no idea about how people lived in Scotland, but she could tell a very large home and beautiful gardens at first glance. It all meant money. Joe’s family was rich. And she had experience of rich families.
Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. There was obviously something wrong with her. Why had those thoughts even come into her head? Joe was only a work colleague. Nothing else. She was merely being hospitable.
But if she was only being hospitable, why did the fact he had a rich family back in Scotland make her want to run in the opposite direction?
She closed her eyes for a second and leaned her head back. This was crazy. She was crazy. She just wasn’t quite sure what came next.
Regan was oblivious to the subtleties of adults. He took every question about Lien at face value and blurted out answers left, right and centre.
Joe sat quietly cringing. The only thing was, he couldn’t help but smile. He could read his mum and dad like a book and shook his head at a few of their more inquisitive comments, pretending he hadn’t even heard them.
Eventually, he grabbed Regan and pulled him onto his lap. ‘Say goodnight to Grandma and Papa. It’s time for bed.’
His mother pulled a face and started to blow kisses. Then, just as they were about to disconnect, his father shot in a quick comment. ‘Love to Lien!’
Joe was sure the second the connection ended they’d be hugging each other. He spent the next half-hour settling Regan into bed and making up some story about pirates, before making his way back to turn out the lights. ‘Not as good as Lien,’ Regan murmured in a sleepy voice.
Joe left the room smiling and glanced out of the window. The pale lilac door was taunting him. Begging him to knock on it.
None of this had been planned. When Lien had appeared at the door it had seemed only natural to call her over to say hello to his parents. He’d half hoped it might give them some reassurance that he and Regan had actually settled in.
Instead, it had opened a whole new can of worms.
He felt his phone buzz and pulled it from his pocket. A text from his mother. Three words.
We love her.
Nothing else.
Guilt swamped him. What was he doing? As soon as Lien had sat down she’d fallen into the family conversation with no problems and been an instant hit with his parents.
He couldn’t pretend that hadn’t pleased him. He’d liked the way they’d exchanged glances of approval and joked and laughed with her.
But it also—in a completely strange way—didn’t please him.
Part of him still belonged to Esther. Always had. Always would.
He’d found love once. He’d been lucky. Some people would never have what he and Esther had.
How dared he even contemplate looking again?
His mother had pushed him here to start living again. Not to find a replacement for his wife.
The thought made his legs crumple and he slid down the wall, his hands going to his hair. For a few seconds he just breathed.
He was pulling himself one way and another. Guilt hung over him like a heavy cloud.
He knew why he was here. He knew he’d been living life back in Scotland in a protective bubble. It was time to get out there. That was why he’d accepted the tickets and climbed on that plane.
But what he hated most of all was that he did feel ready to move on. He was tired. He was tired of being Joe the widower. It had started to feel like a placard above his head.
But part of him hated the fact he wanted to move forward. He was tired of being alone. He was tired of feeling like there would never by anyone else in his and Regan’s lives. He was tired of being tired. Of course, he had no idea about the kind of person he was interested in. The truth was, the few little moments that Lien had caused sparks in his brain had bothered him.
It had been so long and he couldn’t quite work out how he felt about everything yet. Of course he’d want someone who recognised that he and Regan were a package deal. He’d want someone who could understand his usual passion for this work. These last few weeks had mirrored how he’d been a few years before. Every day there was something new to learn. Someone new to help. It was what had always driven him, and he knew that, for a while, he’d lost that. But Vietnam was reawakening parts of him that had been sleeping for a while.
He lifted his head and peeled his damp shirt from his back and sighed. Too much thinking wasn’t good for a man.
CHAPTER FOUR
LIEN FINISHED WRITING up the notes on her last patient just as one of the nurses stuck her head around the door. ‘Lien? I know it’s late, but Joe asked if you’d mind dropping in at his house on the way home. There’s something he wants to talk to you about.’
She couldn’t help the way her face automatically curved into a smile. It seemed the nurse noticed too as she gave Lien an amused glance. ‘Okay, then, see you later.’
Lien glanced at her watch. It was late. Regan would likely be sleeping by now. She couldn’t help but be curious. What did Joe want to talk to her about?
She washed her hands and pulled her shirt a little straighter, then walked across the grounds towards his blue door.
She knocked lightly, waiting for only a second before he pulled it open with a tired smile. ‘Come in.’
He was wearing a white T-shirt and some lightweight jogging trousers. From the way he had papers scattered across the table he’d been working on this for some time.
He gestured towards the table, indicating she should sit next to him. In the last few weeks he’d made this place a bit homier. There were now a few pictures scattered around, and it looked like he’d finally got around to buying a laundry basket to get on top of the washing. She could see a haphazardly folded pile of clean clothes sitting on a chair in the corner of the room.
‘Want something to eat?’
She shook her head. She’d been hungry a few hours ago, but the feeling had passed. He held up a tin that she knew was where he kept Regan’s favourite biscuits. ‘One of these?’
‘Go on, then,’ she said. ‘But promise not to tell him.’
Joe smiled. ‘Oh, too late, he has these counted. I’ll need to account for the missing biscuit tomorrow.’
She bit into the chocolate-coated biscuit. It was one that Regan’s grandparents sent every few weeks from Scotland and she was beginning to think she was getting quietly addicted to them.
There was a noise, a bit like a whimper, and Joe crossed to Regan’s doorway. As she watched she could sense his breathing get heavier. It was clear he had something on his mind. She waited a few moments, and when he didn’t move, she crossed over to stand just behind his shoulder.
Regan was curled into a little ball. His lips were moving, as if he were singing some song or nursery rhyme in his sleep.
Joe took a deep breath, his voice so low it was barely a whisper, his eyes fixed on Regan.
‘Sometimes when I’m in my bed at night, I get up and watch Regan sleeping. Then I start to wonder, is there some horrible, secret gene that predisposes you to cancer?’
Lien’s stomach gave an uncomfortable twist. He kept talking, his voice racked with emotion.
‘Both of Esther’s parents died of different types of cancer, and she died of leukaemia. So I look at my little boy and wonder if there’s even a tiny possibility that he might have inherited something that I don’t know about, can’t see, and won’t find out about until it smacks us in the face.’ His voice was shaking now, as were his hands.
She slid her arm through his.
He shook his head. ‘I know it’s crazy. I know it’s irrational. But I can’t help it.’
Her voice was tinged with sadness because she got the impression he’d been hiding these feelings for a while, storing them up, letting them fester, and not sharing them with anyone else. ‘But it’s not irrational, and it’s not crazy, Joe. It’s the thoughts of a man who has already lost his wife, and is terrified he might lose his son.’
She hated the fact they were having this conversation. She could reach out and touch his pain. It was so visible in the air it was practically creating a cloud around his head.
There was also a tiny twinge in her that wondered if this was why he’d asked her here. She’d been bright and happy about the invitation, hoping that—just maybe—it was for something other than work.
But now he was talking to her about his dead wife, and his fears for his son. Her heart ached for him, but she was also trying hard to hide the tinge of disappointment she felt.
She should have been pleased that he felt he could reveal this part of himself to her. But somehow it also gave her the feeling that, no matter what Joe said out loud, his heart really wasn’t ready to move on.
She ran her fingertips along his bare skin. ‘I can’t say much to help, because we do know some cancers seem to run in families. But think back. Think back to the random patients you’ve seen over the years that came in with symptoms. Symptoms that led to a diagnosis of…’ she paused for a second, obviously recalling a few cases ‘…skin cancer, anal cancer, prostate cancer or renal cancer. People with no family history at all. It happens all the time.’
She stopped talking for a few minutes and just let him consider. ‘Sometimes it’s easier to see the things that worry us most.’ She paused and gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘The kinds of things that keep you awake in your bed at night.’
‘What kind of doctor does that make me then?’ He looked pained.
She shook her head. ‘No kind of doctor. Just a worried parent. You don’t have to be a doctor every moment of your life, Joe.’ She looked up into his worried green eyes and gave him the softest smile. They were barely inches apart now. ‘Make room for other things,’ she whispered.
It was almost as if she’d touched a nerve. He jerked. He physically jerked at the impact of her words and she immediately averted her eyes, embarrassed for them both. She moved back quickly to the table and sat down, giving him a few moments to join her.
Her brain was whirring now. She shouldn’t have touched him. How could she explain that it had been done in empathy for how he was feeling?
She wasn’t really that surprised that he was feeling vulnerable right now. He was in a strange country with his son. Yes, they seemed to have settled well, but who really knew what went on inside someone else’s mind?
Clearly not her. No matter how much she tried to deny it, she was beginning to feel a connection to this guy. But after that reaction she was apparently not reading things well. She’d just embarrassed them both. The easiest thing to do was try to pretend nothing had happened.
She shifted a little in the seat. The last thing she wanted to do was sit here in his company after that.
But she still had to work with this guy every day. So she took a deep breath and plastered an interested look on her face, ignoring the little strands of hurt she felt inside.
His phone buzzed with a text and when it flashed up, she saw the screenshot that lay behind it. It was the same photo that Regan had next to his bed. The picture of Esther on the beach, laughing.
Something twisted inside her. She had no reason to be jealous, absolutely none. Of course Regan should have a picture of his mum, but did Joe also need to have it on his phone?
She stared at the array of papers alongside a laptop on the table. ‘What on earth have you been doing?’
As he sat down at the table and started organising his papers her eyes went to one of the pictures Joe had put on the wall. What drew her attention was a large, grand-looking house surrounded by an expanse of gardens. From the view and setting it seemed to be back in Scotland. Joe and Regan were standing in front of the property—it was clearly their family home. She had no idea what house prices were like over there, but one look at the obviously expensive property made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. She’d already seen the house belonging to Joe’s mum and dad, but this must be the house that Joe and Regan lived in. She tried not to calculate in her head how many times this tiny two-bed bungalow could fit into that grand house. What was the English TV series set before the war, where they had staff? It was nearly as big as that.
‘Is that a house or a castle?’ she quipped. Unease spread across her. No, more than that. It was like every nerve in her body was on edge; she could sense the instant hostility and she couldn’t do a darned thing about it. It was like every automatic defence system had just slid into place.
‘It’s not a castle,’ he said with a wave of his hand, then peered back at the screen. ‘At least, I don’t think it was.’
Her skin prickled. She actually wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. She licked her lips. It was funny how being uncomfortable made her mouth instantly dry. ‘Bigger than the average house, I imagine.’ She tried to make her voice sound casual.
He leaned back against the sofa and nodded towards the window and the hospital across from them. ‘Not as big as this place.’
She folded her arms across her chest. ‘I’m not so sure.’
He shook his head. ‘Nah,’ he said breezily. ‘And anyway, didn’t you know everyone lives in a castle in Scotland?’
Of course he was joking, but just the way he said those words tugged at something inside her, and not in a good way. History had taught her that only those who had never had to worry about money would make a quip like that.
‘Here.’ He turned a large piece of paper around to face her. He hadn’t thought twice about their conversation. He hadn’t even noticed her reaction.
She bent forward. It was a map of the surrounding areas. It was littered with red and blue dots.
‘What is this?’ She was confused.
‘I decided to take a look at some of our patients,’ he said. His fingers traced across the paper. ‘The ones with the red dots are the patients currently attending that have tuberculosis. The ones with blue dots are the ones we know have multi-resistant tuberculosis.’ He leaned forward so his head was almost touching hers. ‘Look here. This is the biggest cluster.’
She nodded slowly. The information wasn’t a surprise to her, she’d just never seen it laid out this way. Her skin prickled. The district with the biggest incidence of tuberculosis was the one where her parents lived, and in which she’d been brought up.
He kept talking as he moved some papers around the desk. ‘Okay, so you don’t like me going out and doing follow-ups…’ he gave her a slightly teasing smile ‘…but I got to thinking. I’ve checked up on some of these patients. There’s a low uptake of tuberculosis vaccinations after birth. Not everyone is bringing their children to the clinic. What about if we set up a kind of pop-up clinic to try and screen some people for TB, and immunise any kids that have been missed?’
He was clearly brimming with enthusiasm at the prospect. ‘Is this district one I should be worried about? Are the crime rates high there?’ He kept talking without waiting for a response. ‘Because I’ve checked some of the other stats. I know there’s deprivation and poor health. I know one of the biggest issues for the kids in that area is malnutrition. Maybe we could try and do something to address that while we’re there?’
Something swept over her. Resentment. A wave of anger. ‘What, do you want to give them all money to feed their kids too?’
He pulled back, obviously surprised by her outburst. She ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Do you think we haven’t tried these things before?’ she asked. ‘Do you think we haven’t tried to find new ways to help the people who need it most?’ Her words came out more fiercely than she’d meant them to, but she couldn’t hide how many buttons his ideas had just pushed.
Joe was looking at her with cautious eyes. He clasped both hands together and spoke carefully. ‘Of course I think you’ve tried different things. But sometimes it’s a timing issue. All I’m saying is maybe it’s time to try again.’ His voice was low. ‘I don’t know the people in these areas the way that the rest of the staff here do. I can only look from an outside point of view. My public health head tells me we have a current hotspot for tuberculosis, and potentially more cases of multi-resistance. Can’t we take a look at this?’
He spoke so earnestly she knew he meant every word of this. She couldn’t help but be oversensitive. She often felt like this when outsiders remarked on the area she’d been brought up in. People made so many judgements. Formed so many opinions.
She struggled to find the right words. ‘Let me think about it. We can discuss it with Khiem and Hoa. Setting up pop-up clinics is more difficult than it sounds.’
Joe pressed his lips together and ran his fingers through his hair. She could tell he was frustrated. He’d probably wanted her to jump all over his idea and tell him it was wonderful. And in some ways it probably was.
He leaned back and stretched his arms out. ‘Regan is hankering after another bedtime story from you. He’ll be sorry he missed you tonight.’
‘Couldn’t be helped,’ she said as lightly as she could. ‘We can catch up some other time.’ She gave Joe a softer look. ‘Are your stories really that bad?’
He smiled. ‘Not bad. Just the same. I keep recycling, and Regan’s now getting old enough to realise that.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Whereas you swept in here with your dragons, warriors and magic turtles and blew me out of the water.’
She raised her eyebrows in challenge. ‘Time to up your game, then.’
He shook his head. ‘Oh, no way. I’m not getting into that. You have an unfair advantage.’
‘What’s that?’ The atmosphere between them was definitely mellowing. She was starting to calm down. Gain a bit of perspective. She’d had no reason to act so hurt about earlier. He’d clearly been sad, vulnerable and worried about his child. Over-reacting wouldn’t do either of them any good.
He waved his hand. ‘Untried and untested kids’ stories.’
‘Who says they’re untried and untested? I’ve worked the children’s clinic for a while now. It’s amazing what you can learn when you start telling a chid a story.’
His face changed, becoming more serious, and he nodded. ‘Yeah, sometimes they tell you a story back that makes you want to wrap your arms around them and hide them away.’
Their gazes clashed. Unspoken words. Joe had worked as a general practitioner in Scotland for years. Doubtless he’d encountered child protection issues just like she had here. It was a sobering thought, and she didn’t want to go there.
‘Have you and Regan video-called with your parents again?’
He nodded. ‘Oh, yes. Every Tuesday and Friday. My parents are creatures of habit. If they don’t get their Regan fix they get very testy.’
‘They must miss him.’
He gave a little sigh. ‘Yeah, they do. And he misses them. I don’t think he quite understands the distance. He’s asked a few times if we can go and see them. He was used to seeing them every day, so it’s a big difference.’
‘You must miss them too.’
Joe paused for a second. ‘I do. They’ve been my biggest supporters for the last few years. I don’t know what I would have done if they hadn’t been there when…’ His voice drifted off and she filled in the blanks by herself. She didn’t need him to say any more. He looked up. ‘They keep asking for you too. You’ll need to come and say hello again sometime.’
She smiled nervously. Something in the air felt quite odd between them. They were working together so well, and she enjoyed his company. Maybe that was it? She was enjoying his company a bit more than any other colleague’s. Maybe that was why she was being so defensive? Self-protect mode kicked in when anything felt remotely personal. She wanted to keep herself safe. And how did you keep your heart safe when there was already an adorable kid tugging away at it, and a guy with the sexiest accent in the world breathing the same air?