Baby Miracle In The Er

‘Bugsy! Bugsy! Bugsy!’

It would have been funny if the stuffed monkey’s name hadn’t got louder with each utterance and tiny feet hadn’t been pummelling the back of Michael’s seat.

He chose to ignore the outburst. They usually didn’t last long, and tonight he wasn’t in the mood for an argument that would go nowhere. Tonight he wanted to indulge himself for a change. To allow some ‘me’ time with Stephanie. Not that he intended anything more than catching up on what she’d been up to since heading to Queenstown—and maybe learning why she was now a paramedic and not doing the job she’d loved so much.

Turning into his wide drive, he held his breath. Released it when her car pulled up beside his. She hadn’t done a bunk. Which probably meant she was more upset than she realised.

He was under no illusions that she wanted to spend time talking about those babies and how lucky they’d been so far. But why had she been so distressed? He’d seen her deal with losing patients, young and old. Once he’d had to pull her away from giving CPR when there had been no chance of bringing their patient back to life. Yet he’d never seen that level of despair and pain in her eyes.

‘Bugsy!’ A solid kick in the back of his seat.

‘Aaron, that’s enough. We’re home now, and we’ve got a visitor. A nice lady you can say hello to.’

Lifting his nephew out of the seat, he had to hold tight as Aaron wriggled around to see who this stranger was. The lad loved people—knew no fear about approaching anyone. Only a good thing if the world was full of kind souls.

Stephanie flipped her key-lock and joined them, those slim legs and just right breasts filling her green and black uniform in ways the designers wouldn’t have planned on. Her gaze trolled the front of his massive house.

‘I’d forgotten how grand this place is. You did well getting your hands on it.’

Forget hands. It had taken a load of hard-earned money, and then some, but it had been worth every cent. Pride filled his chest. It was a very special house—one that had sucked him in the moment he’d seen it from this very spot. It was tucked neatly into a gentle slope, making the most of its location, while inside the floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted the view over Waitemata Harbour, and the deck was the best place in the world to sit and relax after an arduous day in the department.

‘I bought it when I quit rugby and began studying full-time. Figured it would be a good investment and there’d be no temptation to fritter away my money over the years until I started earning again.’

‘You played professionally—I remember. Why give up?’

Her gaze left the house to cruise his shoulders and chest, headed lower. To his thighs.

At least that was where he presumed her intense gaze was now fixed. Even if it was the concrete he stood on, his groin had tightened anyway. He cursed silently.

For the second time that day he explained. ‘Rugby wasn’t a career that’d take me into old age.’

The left side of her mouth lifted. His belly joined in on the tightening act.

‘Can I carry anything?’ she asked as he juggled Aaron and the bag of necessities that went everywhere his nephew did.

‘I’ve got it.’

‘You’re a dab hand at this,’ Steph quipped as he managed to unlock the front door and not drop child or bag. ‘Had lots of practice?’

There was more to that question than the obvious. ‘Only with this guy.’

That should stop any ideas she might be getting about him and any kids he might have.

The wind rustled the bushes and the drizzle got wetter. ‘Come inside before it starts bucketing down.’

‘I want Bugsy!’ Aaron cried.

Oh, hell.

When he should have been retrieving the toy he’d been focused on watching Stephanie clamber out of her car, noting those legs he had X-rated memories of and that perfectly rounded butt.

‘Bugsy!’

‘Hang on, buddy. I’ll get him in a minute.’ First he had to unload onto the entrance table.

‘Something I can do?’

‘There’s a stuffed monkey in the back of my car. Under my seat, I think.’

‘I’ll grab it.’

‘Thanks.’

Car tyres squealed on his driveway. Chantelle. And in a foul mood, judging by the flat mouth and glittering eyes. Stephanie was about to learn more about his private life than she’d ever wanted to know.

‘Michael, when are you going to stop interfering in my life?’

‘Mummy!’ Aaron wriggled out of his arms and trotted to Chantelle.

‘Hey, baby.’ Chantelle might be angry with him, but there was only love in her eyes when she swung her boy up into her arms. ‘How’s my darling?’

‘Chantelle, I want you to meet—’

The love dipped as she yelled, ‘I didn’t ask you to pick him up. So I’ll say it again. When are you going to stop interfering in my life?’

When you stop expecting me to... When you stand on your own two feet all the time.

‘They phoned from the daycare centre to say you hadn’t turned up and they couldn’t get hold of you.’

He held on to his own temper, knowing from experience that losing it wouldn’t help a thing—especially when Chantelle was in one of her rages. A quick glance across to Stephanie and his stomach curdled at her shocked expression.

‘Chantelle, can we—?’

‘That doesn’t mean you can charge in and take over. I got there before they closed. That’s all that matters,’ Chantelle ranted.

No mystery about where Aaron got his lungs from.

Michael closed his eyes, dug deep for composure—because right about now he was going to lose it, and that couldn’t happen. What sort of example would that set for Aaron? Plus, he most definitely did not want Stephanie seeing him getting angry.

‘Mike, you’ve got to stop taking charge all the time.’

The octave levels had dropped, and Chantelle was using ‘Mike’, meaning he was in for a lecture.

She began placing Aaron in the car seat in her own vehicle. ‘I’m a good mum. You’ve said so yourself. I hadn’t forgotten Aaron—I just got caught up with a tutor going over my last paper and time got away. It happens—and not just to me.’ She stabbed the car’s rooftop with a finger. ‘I never forgot about him, and I knew I had to get to the centre before six-thirty.’

He lived with the dread that his beautiful sister would start the slippery slide back into hell and this time take his nephew with her. But she had a point. She was an excellent mother and she didn’t neglect Aaron—she loved him to bits.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’

The door slammed, and then she was belting herself into her seat and revving the engine. At least she had the sense to back out slowly, and her speed down the drive was careful. Just as it should be with a three-year-old on board.

Stephanie stared after the car as the tail-lights disappeared out of sight. ‘What just happened?’

‘You haven’t met my sister.’

Her eyes widened as she turned to look at him. ‘That was your sister?’ Disbelief echoed between them.

‘We’re not alike.’ At all. Same father—nothing much else to show a connection. Though that wasn’t true. They had the same colouring. The same wariness. Had learnt the hard way about sharing themselves with outsiders.

‘You okay that you’re not getting time with your nephew?’

‘I’m good. I’d better order that pizza.’

He didn’t move, suddenly exhausted. Watching out for his sister did that to him sometimes. He needed time out. Strange, but he knew Chantelle would be the first to tell him to go for it.

Stephanie was making him uncomfortable with her intense scrutiny. ‘I’ll take a rain-check. You look like you could do with some alone time.’

‘Can’t say I’m hungry any more. Sorry.’

Her hand gripped his arm. ‘Michael, it’s fine. Truly. We can catch up another time.’

‘Thanks for understanding.’

‘Who says I did?’

Her smile kicked him in the gut.

‘See you tomorrow.’

* * *

Steph slid into her car, clicked the belt in place, watching Michael standing there, waiting patiently for her to leave. Wanting her to leave.

Would he phone his sister and have it out with her? Or did this happen often enough that he’d let it wash over him? He didn’t look comfortable—had been tense from the moment that car had flown up the drive and Chantelle had leapt out. Talk about a human tornado...

Putting the gear in reverse, she started to back away. Hunger pangs hit her. The idea of something nuked made her wince. It wasn’t the way to look after herself. Was there a restaurant on the way home that’d do a takeaway for her?

Something banged lightly on her window. She braked and Michael appeared at her door.

‘Come inside. I invited you here and now I’m letting you go without feeding you.’

If she went inside with him his sister’s accusations would follow them, hold them back from relaxing over easy conversation.

‘Not tonight.’

But they both needed to eat. An idea struck.

‘Get in. We’ll go for a beer and a meal at the pub round the corner.’

He’d say no. But the idea of sitting in a warm pub with lots of people to distract her was brilliant.

‘I’m headed there.’

‘I’m supposed to squeeze into this tiny thing you call a car?’

Turning her down was warring with interest in his eyes.

‘See it as a challenge.’

He never dodged one of those.

The passenger door opened.

‘My knees and ears are about to become best mates.’

She laughed. ‘Do you want to tip the seat back so you can lie down?’

Finally the last of the ball of tension in her stomach unravelled and she played the piano on the steering wheel until Michael got belted in. Spending time with him was exactly what she needed—not her empty, lonely house.

At the pub, with drinks in hand and fish and chips ordered, they found somewhere to sit away from the noise of people talking too loudly. It was good to get a load off her feet and lean back against the leather-covered wall of the booth.

‘Just what the doctor ordered.’ She sipped her beer.

Michael mimicked her. ‘Perfect.’

After glancing around the crowded room he came back to look at her.

‘Tell me about Queenstown. There’s so much to do outdoors—what did you try?’

Staying on safe subjects was good. ‘I learned to ski—or rather I started to. Falling off and twisting my ankle put me off that pursuit. Next I joined a tramping club and went on some amazing walks in the mountains—until a group of us had to sleep outside an overcrowded hut one night. Being woken by a huge possum crawling over my sleeping bag gave me the heebie-jeebies and I quit tramping.’ She shuddered. ‘Furry creepy beasts...coming right up to my head looking for food.’

‘Then you took up crochet?’

Michael’s smile sent her stomach into chaos. The fish and chips had better be a while away.

She choked on her laughter. ‘Might’ve been wiser than salmon fishing.’

He groaned. ‘What happened?’

‘I never learnt when to stay still, always went one step too far—and I fell in, filled my waders with freezing water straight from the mountains every time.’

‘Did you catch any salmon?’

She shook her head. ‘They were totally safe when I was around.’

‘I tried trout fishing in Taupo once. I’d rather be running around a rugby field.’

‘You miss it?’ It must’ve been hard for him to give up when he was still a rising star.

‘Yes and no. The body’s too old to take the knocks now. I like to win—don’t take coming second very well.’

That was what had lifted his game from good to exceptional, or so his coaches had said in one article she’d read online.

He drank down half his glass of beer. ‘It wasn’t easy, giving up a lifelong dream, especially when it seemed half the world was watching me.’

‘It was your choice?’

‘Yes, it was—and I don’t regret it.’

He must be strong to do that. At a young age the temptation to stay in the limelight would’ve been hard to ignore. She needed to follow his example as she got on with living back here. Days like today would occur occasionally, but she couldn’t let them decimate her. Her reaction to the birth of those twins had to be a one-off—anguish to be dealt with and put away. She needed to be strong, too.

A big, warm hand covered one of her smaller, chilled ones. ‘Tell me?’

He could see her thoughts? Probably not hard when her mouth wasn’t lifted in a smile any more, her hands had grown cold and her body had sagged forward.

‘I had IVF once.’

He didn’t look shocked, only sad for her. ‘You lost your baby?’

‘I didn’t get that far. Thank goodness. It was bad enough not conceiving with all the help available, but to get pregnant, feel your babies grow inside your belly and then lose them is beyond my comprehension.’

‘But you came close to understanding today?’

Oh, God. This wasn’t easy. Yet it felt good to tell Michael. She hadn’t talked about this to anyone since Freddy had left her.

‘I was probably way off the mark, but, yes, I hurt. For Melanie. For me. For those babies. Hers and the ones I can’t have.’

Michael was up and around the table, sliding in beside her, his arm around her shoulder bringing her close to his warm body.

‘You’re resilient. You might’ve had a wee moment in ED, but then you straightened up and got on with your job—saving others.’

It hadn’t been that easy, but she had found an inner strength. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

He pushed her glass towards her. ‘Were you married or in a relationship?’

‘Married for four years. Thought it was for ever. We both did. But the pressure of undergoing fertility treatment was hard...having it fail was much worse. We didn’t survive.’

Gulping at the beer, she thought back to Freddy and his tears the day he’d told her he couldn’t stay any longer, that he’d given all he had, his tank was empty.

‘I don’t blame Freddy for going. It was one of those mazes neither of us could find a way out of.’

Counselling might have worked, if Freddy had agreed to attend, but he’d refused. He was a man, and men didn’t do spilling their hearts to strangers. Not him, anyway. Not even for her, no matter how much she’d pleaded. Over was over, and he didn’t want to be with her any more.

‘He should’ve stuck to you like glue.’ Michael was tense against her, his voice fierce. ‘Not walked away when the going got tough.’

She pulled away from Michael’s arm, slid along the seat to put space between them. Staying curled against him was making her punch-drunk. His defence of her was wonderful, but it undermined her determination to go it alone in her quest to get her future sorted and never be rejected by anyone again. She’d promised herself she’d get over Michael when she returned home—not fall in love with him.

‘Freddy did the right thing for him, and ultimately for us. At first I hated him for going, but I’ve accepted the inevitability of it. If we couldn’t survive that, we weren’t as strong a couple as I believe couples should be.’

Their fish and chips arrived at that moment, and Stephanie didn’t miss the relief pouring through Michael. He didn’t have an answer to what she’d just said. Hell, she hadn’t even known that was what she thought until thirty seconds ago. It was all new to her, but it felt absolutely right.

Tapping her glass against his, she smiled. ‘Thanks for listening. I feel a lot better than I have at any time since picking up Melanie.’

Now she’d eat, and enjoy the fact that Michael had come out with her, before heading home to catch up on much needed sleep. Oh, and to tick another box—she’d found she might have the courage to stay put for ever this time.

She’d also told Michael about her infertility. So what? That wasn’t on her list, no, but at least there’d be no ugly surprises in the future if they did spend more time together. Which they weren’t going to do. Getting over him once and for all was the goal. The ultimate box to be ticked off.

But there was no denying he’d made her feel soft and warm when he’d got so uptight about Freddy. She didn’t need anyone guarding her back, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t kind of cool when Michael did it.

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