One Month to Become a Mum

‘Great. So my hair will be giving the children nightmares and the oldies heart attacks!’ She pigged her eyes and put on a witchy voice. ‘Then my work here will be done.’

‘Ah, is that what’s eating you? Seriously? The hair? Don’t worry.’ His smile softened. ‘You’ll be fine. I’m sure.’

‘I wish I could believe you.’ Jessie stole a look at his profile. Tiny lines edged his temple. Above the curve of his lip she noticed a diminutive dimple, just small enough to fit the end of her little finger, or the tip of her tongue.

Whoa, that had come out of left field. She pushed it straight back there. Fleetingly something hot shifted in her stomach, like a million butterflies flexing their wings.

Strange. Butterflies? Maybe she did have first-day nerves after all.

From the back of the car Lucy’s laughter turned into a cough. A tight whistling wheeze, she noted, on exhalation. A chesty rattle. And again. Then it was gone.

A shadow fell over Luke’s face, his features froze in concern. Just watching his reaction made Jessie’s heart slam against her ribcage.

‘Lucy? You okay, baby?’

‘Okay, Daddy.’ She coughed some more.

Jessie twisted to get a glimpse of the toddler and check her pallor. But Luke had clipped her directly behind Jessie’s seat. All she managed to see was a pair of chubby legs stuffed into bright red Mary-Janes.

Her heart fluttered and she calmed it. It was just a cough. Lots of kids had them. Why was she thinking of getting involved? The kid’s father was a doctor and sitting right there. ‘She’s probably having a panic attack at sharing a ride with a green-haired Christmas-stealing creature.’

‘No. It’s fragile asthma.’ A frown furrowed his forehead as he glanced at his daughter in the driver’s mirror for the tenth time. ‘Spent a few nights in hospital over the years. Never want to go there again. The spacer is our friend.’ He winked at Lucy. ‘Hey, honey? Cough better now?’

‘Yes, Daddy.’

‘Good girl.’ He smiled stiffly as he steered the car into a kowhai-flanked car park in front of a smart colonial-style villa. Yellow flowers glittered in the sunshine. ‘It’s triggered by stress, excitement, fear—you know, the usual suspects …’

‘Scary stuff.’ She’d seen too many parents eaten away by worry, watching their child struggle for breath. Luke would be the same. No one could take childhood asthma lightly. ‘Maybe you should take some time out with her. Do you want me to check her over?’

‘I do the checking.’ He jumped out of the car, his expression still closed. He looked across the roof and fixed her with a grey stare. ‘She’s my daughter, my responsibility. I’ll walk her round to crèche, settle her in, then meet you in the staff kitchen. Ten minutes.’

‘Oh. Okay. Bye, Lucy.’ Jessie blinked at the fast-disappearing pair lost in each other as they walked hand in hand round the corner. Her suggestion of help had brought a weirdly abrupt end to their conversation. Clearly Luke was fiercely protective where his daughter was concerned and didn’t welcome any kind of support. Even so, understanding his curt response didn’t make it sting any less.

She hauled her bag onto her shoulder and turned to the surgery. That was as far as she would allow her thoughts to go on the matter.

Exhaling deeply, she pushed open the white-painted door and stepped into a sunny reception area. The familiar smell of disinfectant immediately cemented her focus.

This environment was where she felt most at home, behind the mask of her job. Three weeks here, four weeks there, scraping enough to fund her charity work. Helping people. Saving lives. This was her calling, her life.

She slicked a hand over her chaotic curls and breathed in her professional calm. Green hair or not, she was here to do a job, not expend energy on a distraction like Luke McKenzie.

CHAPTER TWO

‘A BEE sting? I’ll be right there.’ Luke shoved away the inconvenient distracting thoughts about his locum that had been flitting in and out of his head all morning, and focused on the emergency. Adrenalin kicked into his gut like a mini-explosion and he relished the buzz it gave him. Managed properly, the outcome would be fine. Managed badly and …

Bee sting. Anaphylaxis. Death.

He hurried down to Reception, to be met by a cacophony and chaos.

A small crowd had formed around a woman who was screaming relentlessly. Her shrieks filled the waiting room, the agony of panic and fear. A flushed child hung from her arms.

‘Quick, my boy. Help.’ The woman charged at him. ‘He can’t breathe.’

‘Ambulance. Oxygen. Resus trolley,’ Luke yelled at his receptionist, ignoring the tearing in his heart at the sight of a desperately sick child. No matter how many times he dealt with this kind of emergency it always threw him back to Lucy in a hospital bed hooked up to a ventilator. But he had no time to surrender to emotion, he needed medical auto pilot. ‘Room One. Now.’

Grabbing the child, he ran to the closest treatment room, laid the boy on the couch and began to assess.

‘Name?’

The boy’s mum pushed forward and held her son’s hand. Her face was ashen as she struggled to get the words out. ‘Ty-Tyler.’

‘Age?’

She looked at him, puzzled.

‘I need to know for the medicine dosage.’

‘Seven.’

‘Weight?’

‘I don’t know … twenty-odd kilos. I think.’ Her mouth trembled as her voice wavered again. ‘I should know. How could I not know?’

‘It’s okay. We’ll work it out.’ Because of Lucy’s asthma he knew every single relevant detail of her life, and lots of the irrelevant stuff too. But he couldn’t blame this mother. How could she comprehend that knowing a child’s weight at any given moment might be important, just in case of an inconceivable emergency?

Tyler’s lips had doubled in size, his arms and face and what was visible of his chest in the V of his shirt were covered in angry red hives. His puffed-up eyes screamed out for help as he writhed and clutched his throat. Traces of vomit graced his front. His whole body shook in panic. But he was whimpering. Which meant he could breathe. For now.

Luke checked Tyler’s pulse. Rapid and weak. He wrapped an automatic blood-pressure cuff around the boy’s arm and waited for its verdict. Dangerously low. Slipping a pulse oxy-meter onto Tyler’s thumb, he grimaced.

‘Come on. Where the hell is that oxygen? The trolley?’ Sats dropping, airway almost compromised. Was he supposed to just watch the boy sink into arrest?

This reaction was severe and headed down a perilous path. Anaphylaxis had its own timetable. And it was always too fast.

‘Where was he stung?’

‘Back of his neck. I put ice on.’

‘Any other allergies?’

‘No. I should have watched him more closely.’ The mother’s hands trembled and tears ran down her cheeks. She pulled down the back of Tyler’s collar and revealed a livid lump with a tiny black barb sticking out.

Luke grabbed tweezers and yanked the sting out. ‘Has he any other medical problems?’

‘N-no. Oh, my God. Help him.’ She tore at Luke’s sleeve, barring his way.

‘I’m trying. Please. If you could just wait outside. We need …’

He glanced to the door and beckoned to Maggie, the practice nurse, to take Tyler’s mother to a calmer environment. Though he knew every pore of her would strain to stay with her child, his own ghoulish experiences had taught him she would never ever forget the disturbing images that could unfold. He wouldn’t wish that on another parent.

As Maggie shuffled the desperate mum away, Luke caught sight of Jessie, portable oxygen tank in one hand and dragging a trolley behind her with the other. Thank God.

Another doctor. Help. That must be why the hairs on the back of his neck had stood to attention at the sight of her. Yes.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have to bark orders.

She threw the cylinder onto the bed and switched it on. The reassuring whoosh of pressurised oxygen filled the room. ‘Anaphylaxis?’

‘Yep. Bee sting. Pretty rapid onset. I need adrenalin. Now.’

‘I’ve got heaps, shame you can’t bottle it.’ For a millisecond her eyes met his. Her calm dark pupils glistened. Clearly she enjoyed emergency work as much as he did. A shot of heat pumped alongside the adrenalin racing through his veins. He took a steadying breath.

Focus.

As Jessie secured the mask over Tyler’s grossly swollen face, Luke snatched out a packet of ampoules and an injection set. He checked the label. ‘Adrenaline 1 per 1000. 0.3 mL. Right?’ He drew the clear liquid into the syringe and primed the needle. ‘Now, I need to get this into him.’

He turned to the child. ‘Hold on there, Tyler. Let’s get those shorts up, mate. A sharp scratch. Attaboy.’

Luke couldn’t wait for more than a nod of consent. ‘Stay still. Still.’

If he stopped, just for a second, he could risk this child’s life. He dragged up the leg of Tyler’s shorts and plunged the life-saving fluid deep into his thigh muscle.

‘And I’ll secure intravenous access.’ Jessie searched the trolley but shook her head. ‘Which is the twenty-four gauge? The packaging’s different wherever you go.’

‘Clear packet.’ He directed her to the right-sized luer.

‘Got it.’ She snapped a tourniquet round Tyler’s skinny arm, tapped gently then stabbed the sharp point into his vein. ‘Damn, I think his peripherals are shutting down. No, no, wait.’

She peered down, a concentrated frown on her face. The boy’s arm flopped to the side as she rubbed and palpated. ‘We’re good to go. I’ll get a line up and some normal saline in.’

The look she flashed him was one of pure relief.

The boy was in shock and needed an urgent boost. If IV access wasn’t secured now and his veins shut down completely there’d be hell to pay and a bigger mess when he got to the hospital.

‘Well done, Grinch.’

This new look she threw him wasn’t so gleeful. But it still had the same effect. A direct hit to his abdomen where it pooled in a shimmering glow. Damn. Tyler might be crawling out of the woods but Luke was getting woefully lost in the details of a woman’s smile. What on earth was wrong with him today? Find a map and get out quick.

‘Mum?’ Tyler dragged the mask from his face, his voice wobbly and weak. His eyes were bloodshot and very, very scared. ‘Where’s Mum?’

‘Steady on, Tyler. I know this sucks.’ Luke gently but firmly pushed the mask back over Tyler’s face. Could someone please invent a mask that doesn’t frighten the hell out of kids?

‘Doesn’t matter if they’re disguised as fish, dragons or shaped like kooky lollipops, they still make a scary noise, eh, buddy?’ Jessie stroked the boy’s head.

Luke stood open-mouthed. ‘Are you a mind reader? I was thinking the exact same thing. Weird.’

‘What?’ She frowned. ‘No. It’s just scary for them. Keep that there a bit longer, Ty, while the juice works its magic.’

‘Want Mum.’

‘I’ll send someone for her in a minute, mate. Hold still. You’re being real brave.’ A wriggling patient normally caused Luke a great deal of agro, but this time it meant he’d done his job and saved a life.

Relief surged into his belly. He leaned against the trolley and allowed himself a deep exhalation.

He always worked on autopilot, pushing back any thoughts of what-ifs and maybes, following a path of medical drugs and best practice. The high of his own fight-or-flight chemicals carried him along. But after the event he struggled with the kickback, the jittery blast of emotion and the unassailable desperate truth that one day it might just be his own daughter he was working on.

‘Back with us?’ Jessie stroked the boy’s hair and beamed at Luke. Her eyes lit up, revealing gold flecks in the pools of deep blue. Thick black eyelashes brushed her cheeks and a smattering of freckles crinkled over her nose. Her body relaxed into the smile as she nodded and spoke. ‘His resp rate’s much better already. Blood pressure rising. Sats at ninety-eight. I can never get over just how quickly adrenalin kicks in.’

‘Yeah. They don’t call it a rush for nothing.’

That smile just about stopped Luke’s heart beating. The warmth of it reached right down to his toes, wrapping him in a haze of heat.

But there was more to a woman than a bright smile. Lies, arguments and pain, for example. This was why he spent every day as a single dad. He may be half of an excellent doctoring team, but flying solo at home suited him just fine. It was like a comfortable sofa he’d no intention of updating.

He forced himself to look away and fuss with the luer, finding his equilibrium again.

Tyler’s mother’s chipped toenails and stripy jandals came into his peripheral vision. He scanned upwards, hoping she hadn’t seen the extent to which they’d had to manhandle her child. ‘Hi, there. How’re you doing?’

‘Is he okay? What happened?’ Her voice trembled.

Luke wrapped an arm round her, helped her find a spot to sit next to her son. He knew how much she’d be wanting to touch Tyler, hold him, breathe him in. ‘It’s okay. He’s going to be fine. Yes, you can hold his hand. He’s a bit of a pin cushion, though and he’s been through the wars.’

He rubbed his knuckles across the boy’s head and ruffled his hair. The kid smiled weakly and Luke felt a comradely connection. ‘I reckon he deserves a treat later. Maybe when he gets the all-clear, ice cream might be nice?’

Jessie watched in awe. Forget bombastic. Commanding. Empathetic. Luke’s velvet voice had taken on a lulling tone, so calming. Trust me, it said.

It certainly seemed to be working on Tyler and his mum, who gazed at him, solemn as he reassured them.

He did everything by the book. Assessing, acting, anticipating. And all with genuine compassion.

‘As you know, Tyler had an allergic reaction to a bee sting.’ Luke held the woman’s hand and now focused entirely on her as he spoke. ‘We’ve given him an injection to help, but sometimes the reaction can come back. So we’ll keep an eye on him in hospital for a day or so. Has this ever happened before?’

‘No. Never. It was horrible.’ She shivered and turned to Jessie. ‘You saved his life. Thank you.’

‘Hey, really, it’s my job. He might have to carry a special injection around with him after this. Just in case he gets another sting, and another reaction this bad.’

Jessie twisted to check on their patient. She’d been holding his wrist and monitoring his pulse. ‘He’s getting a better colour in his lips now. His heart’s still racing, but that’ll be from the bolus of adrenalin. It saved his life, but it can give a heck of a kick to the system.’

Maggie popped back into the room and glanced at each of them in turn. ‘Oh, good. Ambulance is here. I’ll show them in.’

After twenty minutes and a detailed handover Jessie stood in Reception and watched Luke say goodbye to his patient. A buzz of excitement still thrilled round her body. Excess adrenalin was always hard to shake off. At least, she put it down to the medical emergency and not the view.

Luke had handled everything with a professionalism and calm that had had everyone doing his bidding. And yet she’d never seen a more compassionate and composed doctor. His morning clinic had ended with a bang and he still remained as fresh as if the day had just begun. Still Dr Perfect. How did he manage it?

Unlike her. She ran a hand over her hair and looked round for a mirror. Scarecrow chic now probably.

Alarm bells rang loudly in her head. Since coming back to New Zealand, she’d become more and more concerned about how she looked. What did it matter all of a sudden? Appearances didn’t matter. Work did. Saving lives did. Tyler did.

Of course, it was easy—scratch that, essential—for a woman with scars to believe that. Anything else would be just plain stupid. Or egotistical suicide. And she certainly wasn’t into that.

Luke’s eyebrows rose as he closed the front door and turned to her. ‘Thanks for your help in there. You’re one hell of a doctor.’

Heat shunted up her neck. Yes, she was a good doctor. But it felt great hearing it from a colleague. ‘Ditto. Are you okay?’

‘Sure. Why not?’

‘I just thought, having Lucy, it must be hard dealing with sick littlies.’ She knew how hard it was and was giving him a let-out to voice it. ‘We don’t just have to suck it up, you know. It can be good to talk about it.’

‘I’m fine. Seriously.’ His back straightened and his shoulders pushed back. If he had any kind of fatherly concerns, he wasn’t going to share them. ‘We handled everything by the book, I’d say.’

And so she left it. There was a faint question in his eye, then a shut-down look like the one in the car. He clearly wasn’t comfortable talking about his life or Lucy or his worries.

She shrugged and changed the subject. ‘Turning into an interesting first day.’

‘You can say that again.’

He stopped in front of her, jotted a note, signed some prescriptions. As he wrote, fluidly and neatly for a doctor, his shoulders relaxed and his features softened. Then he turned to her and smiled. His blue-grey eyes were like burnished steel, sparked with a heat that reached to her belly. ‘I would like to invite you to lunch.’

‘Oh?’ No need for the hackles. The guy was probably married. Although he wore no wedding band. No white mark. No mention of a wife. Good grief, how did she know that?

‘I usually do a quick debrief at the sushi bar on a locum’s first day. But unfortunately I have a load of errands to run. It’s Lucy’s birthday next week and I’m on party duty. Maybe later in the week?’

She breathed out deeply. ‘No worries, I’ll grab a roll and catch up on paperwork. Maybe familiarise myself again with the resus trolley.’

She flashed him a conspiratorial smile. Memorising the colour-coded packs on the resus trolley was a matter of professional pride. Besides, hours out of his presence would be a fine idea. Then perhaps she could work out why she’d made a study of his left ring finger. ‘Hope you get it all sorted.’

‘Petting zoos and bouncy castles? I doubt it. There’s way too much to get my head around. And I thought medical finals were hard.’ He turned. ‘Maybe we can debrief later? After surgery. Five o’clock.’

‘I was hoping to get home …’

But he was gone.

‘Okay, see you later.’ Jess sighed. So, he lived a busy life. Full-time doctor and very hands on dad. Hopefully tonight’s meeting would be quick if he had a family to go home to and a party to arrange.

She looked round the empty reception area and pushed him out of her head. Where to start? Resus trolley? Sushi?

But that made her think of him again.

‘Oh.’ He stuck his head back around the door, making her jump almost out of her skin. ‘Daft idea, but I don’t suppose you know anything about organising parties for a three-year-old? To be honest, I’m flummoxed by it all. I’m told fancy dress is mandatory. Apparently.’

‘Er … no.’ Typical, he’d come back just as she’d been able to breathe normally again and now her breath had been snatched away. She couldn’t remember the last party she’d been to, kid’s or otherwise. Invites weren’t exactly forthcoming when she moved around enough not to forge any meaningful relationships.

She pressed against the reception desk, grateful to lean against something solid. Almost instinctively her palm ran over the hard knobbles and knots of skin over her abdomen. She cradled the emptiness, the place where she’d once felt her baby kick. Now a mess of scarred tissue. A shaft of pain exploded in her stomach. She breathed it away, shook her head. No. No kid’s parties. And no point dwelling on the past.

‘Sorry. No idea. I’m definitely the wrong person to ask.’

‘Ah, well, worth trying.’

Dragging on a smile, she shrugged. ‘Anyway, shouldn’t you be discussing parties with Lucy’s mum?’

‘Yeah, right.’ His jaw muscles tightened as he turned back towards the corridor. ‘Forget it, I’ll sort it out.’

Brilliant. Deep joy. Talk about putting her two size sevens straight into her big, stupid, careless mouth.

Jessie stared at the computer screen, trying to concentrate on the next patient’s notes. But so many new questions crowded her head. Why wouldn’t Luke talk to Lucy’s mother about organising parties? The only clues she had were the flicker of disdain in his eyes and the clenched cheek muscle; clearly relations between him and the girl’s mother were strained.

‘Excuse me? Jessie?’ Maggie bustled into the room, dragging Jessie away from her reverie. ‘Any chance you can see Kyle Phillips soon? He’s tearing around the waiting room and driving his mum close to tears.’

‘Of course. I was just about to call him in.’

‘I could ask Luke to squeeze him in if you’re too busy.’ Maggie looked pointedly around the empty room, no doubt wondering why on earth they’d employed such a slacker. ‘He usually sees Kyle, but he’s double-booked most of this afternoon. Shame, they’ve just pitched up on the off chance we could fit them in.’

Jessie’s stomach tumbled at the mention of Luke’s name. Traitorous stomach, it was way more interested in him and his business than was good for her.

But her head wasn’t. Michael had sealed her belief that relationships and her couldn’t work. Discovering her husband’s infidelity after her accident, losing her baby and then her marriage, had tattooed a promise onto her heart. Never again.

‘Yes, yes, of course, send Kyle in right away.’ And stop me thinking about Luke and his smile.

Was she thinking about his smile now too? What the hell happened to never again? So he had a cute smile. Perfect teeth. Big deal. Probably paid a zillion dollars in dentistry.

Despite the urgency to get the next patient in, Maggie seemed to prefer talking about her employer. ‘Luke’s always so punctual, his clinics never run late. Don’t know how he manages it, what with little Lucy. She’s a handful. But he has everything organised to work around her routine.’

‘Sounds like he’s a regular miracle worker.’

‘It was a big shock, you know, and such a change for him. He hadn’t a care in the world a few years ago—a big social life, partying.’

‘Partying?’

‘As soon as he had Lucy he put all that behind him. He’s doing so well as a solo parent.’

Aha. Now the fog lifted. ‘Sounds like I’ll be hearing lots more about him over the next few weeks.’ Hopefully like what the heck had happened to Lucy’s mother and how come Luke managed not to have a care in the world when he had a family to provide for?

Jessie looked at the computer clock.

‘I’m five minutes late already.’ She slid her chair back and tried to look like she meant business. ‘I’d better catch up.’

Stacey Phillips shifted in her seat and placed a trembling hand on her three-year-old’s shoulder. ‘For goodness sake, sit still, Kyle, and let the doctor look in your ears.’

‘It’s okay, Mr Wriggle-Bottom, I’ve finished looking now.’ Jessie replaced the auroscope on its charger and smiled at Kyle’s mum. ‘Your instincts were right. Kyle has a slight redness on his eardrum, caused by a viral infection, but it’s nothing serious. Antibiotics won’t be any use because they attack bacteria, not viruses, but paracetamol will help with the pain. Bring him back if things don’t settle down.’ Jessie ruffled the boy’s blond locks, handed him a toy train. ‘Here, Kyle, show Mummy the train while I write in your notes. Choo-choo.’

‘Ahh…. choooooo.’ Kyle sneezed, all over Jessie’s trousers. Great. A snot-coloured sticky patch to match her snot-coloured hair. She bit her lip and held in a smile. Her locum pay had better include laundry bills.

The young mother’s face crumpled, her eyes red-rimmed and brimming with tears. ‘I’m so sorry. Really sorry. Kyle, say sorry to the doctor. Naughty boy. Naughty.’

It seemed an extreme reaction to a sneeze. Maybe she was just the anxious type.

‘It’s fine, Stacey. They’ll wash. Worse things happen, believe me. He couldn’t help it.’ Jessie pointed to her shoulder. ‘Sticky patch number one, vomit from a two-year-old. There’s felt tip on my sleeve from an uncoordinated six-year-old. I’ve got four more hours of clinic to get completely covered in gloop. Things are just warming up.’