Dr Drop-Dead Gorgeous

Ben opened the door for them but didn’t follow them out.

‘There you go—that wasn’t so hard, was it?’ Juliet asked as they returned to the reception desk to confirm her remaining appointments. ‘And he sounds like he’s looking forward to seeing you next week too.’

‘I’m sure he’s just making polite conversation.’

‘Time will tell,’ Juliet said with a grin.

Maggie sensed she had more to add but fortunately they were now back in the waiting area and Juliet seemed to decide not to share her opinion with the rest of Ben’s patients, or his staff. But Juliet’s comment got Maggie thinking as she waited for the receptionist to confirm the next appointment—did she want Ben’s remark to be genuine? She was sure it had been said with sincerity—she didn’t doubt that—but did she want him to be looking forward to seeing her again specifically? That thought made her equally nervous and excited and she found herself replaying his words many times over the course of the evening before finally deciding it was what it was—a polite comment with no hidden agenda! As much as she hated to admit it, disappointment accompanied that realisation.

Chapter Three

IT WAS a busy Saturday morning in Hawthorn and Maggie was feeling a little frazzled after trying to find a car park around Glenferrie Oval, where vacant spots were as rare as the proverbial hen’s teeth.

‘OK, champ, let’s get in the line to hand in your registration,’ she said to Edward as they joined the queue stretching around the perimeter of the oval.

It was her nephew’s first football-coaching clinic and Maggie had offered to bring him as Juliet was still feeling tender and sore following the tissue expander procedure the day before.

There seemed to be hundreds of six-year-olds running amok all over the oval and dozens of footballs were whizzing through the air in all directions. The grass was a mass of brown and gold as most children were wearing miniature versions of the local football team’s tops.

‘Can you do it, Auntie Maggie? My friends are over there kicking the footy.’ Edward pointed across the oval and looked up at her with his best pleading expression.

What should she do? If it were her own child she’d say yes in a flash but Maggie didn’t know Edward’s friends and didn’t really know what today’s procedure was.

‘Please?’ he begged.

‘Which friends?’

‘Jake and Rory.’ He pointed at a group of children, all in brown-and-yellow football jerseys. Maggie couldn’t tell one from the other, but she remembered meeting one of Juliet’s friends, Anna, who had a son called Jake. She could only assume that was who Edward was talking about.

The oval was fenced and Edward didn’t seem bothered. In fact, he seemed rather keen to run off. Maggie shrugged. ‘I guess that’s all right but just listen when they call you in for the start of the session, OK? I’ll sit in the grandstand and watch.’

Edward nodded his head and disappeared, leaving Maggie to stand in line to register before she could make her way to the old grandstand.

‘Morning, Maggie.’

She had just sat down in the front row of the grandstand where she could bask in the autumn sun when she heard the greeting. She hadn’t expected anyone to recognise her here. She certainly hadn’t expected to know anyone herself, but that voice was instantly recognisable.

‘Ben! What are you doing here?’ A thousand questions raced through Maggie’s mind in the space of a few short seconds. The questions seemed to be keeping time with her heartbeat. And as quickly as her heart had begun racing it stopped and sank in her chest as she realised why he was here. ‘Do you have children here?’

He shook his head. ‘A nephew. You?’

Her heart leapt back up to its rightful spot. ‘Same. I brought Juliet’s son.’

‘Are you staying to watch the session?’ he asked and when Maggie nodded he continued. ‘Can I get you a coffee? I was just on my way for one.’

A warm glow spread through her. She wouldn’t say no to Ben’s company. Juliet’s plan sprang to mind and while she certainly couldn’t call this a date it did involve striking up a conversation. Who knew, maybe she could flirt with him. And let’s face it, she told herself, if she couldn’t flirt with someone who literally made her toes curl with desire there wasn’t much hope for her, was there?

‘That would be lovely, thank you.’

‘Cappuccino, latte, flat white?’

‘You don’t suppose they’d make a hot chocolate?’ she asked.

He smiled at her—yep, her toes were curling—and said, ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ before he headed off towards the coffee van.

‘One hot chocolate,’ he said on his return, handing her a takeaway cup and a paper bag, ‘and a blueberry muffin. I’m eating so I took a chance on your preference.’

Maggie peeked into the bag, ‘Looks great, thanks.’

‘Here, let me hold the muffin while you take the lid off your drink.’ Ben’s fingers brushed against her hand as he took the bag from her, and she almost dropped the cup when a trail of heat raced up her arm. Her hand shook as she removed the lid to allow her drink to cool down but Ben seemed oblivious to her sudden bout of nerves. ‘Which one is your nephew?’ he asked.

Maggie shielded her eyes with one hand as she sought out Edward. She’d left her sunglasses in the car. The day had started off grey and bleak, and she’d forgotten how rapidly Melbourne weather changed.

‘Is the sun bothering you? Did you want to move further back in the grandstand?’ Ben asked.

‘No. I’m enjoying the sun. I’m finding Melbourne mornings a bit chilly, to be honest. I need some sunshine to warm me up.’

‘Are you not from here?’

‘I’m from Sydney. I’ve just come down to help Juliet with the kids while she was having surgery.’

‘Did you grow up here or there?’

If she’d had a thousand questions when she’d first seen Ben this morning it seemed as though he had more! ‘Sydney, born and bred,’ she replied. ‘Juliet moved here with her ex-husband. He’s in the navy and she stayed when they split up. Kate, her daughter, was settled in school and Juliet figured that was easier than moving.’

‘How long are you here for?’

‘I’ve taken some long service leave and I might go back and forward a bit until she’s had the implants. It sort of depends on how she goes with the procedures.’ She held his gaze. ‘I guess it’s up to you a bit, isn’t it?’

‘Maybe I should take my time,’ he said. ‘Give you a chance to enjoy our hospitality.’ He smiled and his blue eyes sparkled, reminding her of the ocean on a sunny day.

She couldn’t believe it—was he flirting back? Maybe his farewell after Juliet’s appointment hadn’t been simply polite rhetoric? Before she had time to work that out Ben had moved on in the conversation.

‘Speaking of Juliet, how is she going?’

She decided she didn’t have the skills to work out whether or not Ben was flirting so she stuck to the script. ‘She’s a bit sore today. She says she feels as though she’s done too many push-ups, so I guess it’s muscular soreness she’s describing.’

‘She hasn’t had any other side effects?’

‘Physically or emotionally?’

‘Either.’

‘Not really. I expected her to be a bit tired from the surgery and the near-death experience but she seems to have bounced back with more energy than ever. She’s even more determined to make the most of every moment now. She’s been a bit like that since she finished chemo after the mastectomy but it’s more noticeable now. She would have come with me today except she’s taken her daughter to a ballet class.’ Ben opened his mouth to speak out but Maggie guessed what he was about to ask and added, ‘Don’t worry, she didn’t have to drive. It’s walking distance.’

‘So she doesn’t seem worried about what happened in Theatre?’

‘No, she seems fine, quite calm about the whole thing considering.’

‘Considering what?’

‘The fact she says she heard my husband’s voice.’

Husband? Ben’s eyes flicked to Maggie’s left hand. She was wearing a wedding ring. He’d noticed her; how had he not noticed her wedding ring?

‘Is it possible she could have heard him?’ His mind was buzzing but somehow he managed to formulate a reply.

She shrugged. ‘It’s not impossible. He died ten years ago.’

So she was widowed. Had she remarried? Was that why she was wearing a ring? Questions whirled around in his head. While newly single women were definitely fair game in his opinion, married women definitely were not. But when had he put Maggie in his sights? He knew the answer to that. Yesterday—when he’d spent too much time thinking about her when he should have been writing reports. He was supposed to have been entering details of Juliet’s procedure into her file but his mind had kept drifting, not aimlessly but rather definitely, to Maggie.

She was a stunning woman. As a plastic surgeon he was trained to notice bone structure and Maggie had a perfect oval face and fabulous cheekbones. Even the bump in the bridge of her nose, that she apparently hated, gave her face character. He’d been honest when he said he wouldn’t change it.

Her eyes were a startling blue, and as he looked into them now he could picture her in Theatre. Gowned, masked, capped—covered up except for her eyes. He wondered how the other staff kept focused.

He shook his head to clear his mind and ran back over the events in his theatre. He couldn’t remember everything—it had all happened very quickly—but some things were clear. ‘Was his name Steven?’

‘Yes.’ Maggie’s brow creased with concentration as she looked at him, or was it confusion? ‘How did you know that?’

‘When we’d revived her I asked her if she could hear me and she called me Steven. At least, I thought she was talking to me.’

Maggie shook her head. ‘She thinks she was talking to my husband.’

‘You’re a nurse, a theatre nurse, you said?’ He waited for her confirmation. ‘Do you think there’s something to these “near-death experiences,” for want of a better term?’

‘I’ve heard too many reports to be able to discount them completely.’

‘Really? You’ve had other patients report similar things? Firsthand experiences?’

Maggie nodded. ‘Three or four times, I reckon. And there have been plenty of similarities between them. The light, the feeling of peace and tranquillity, hearing loved ones.’

‘So what’s your opinion, then?’

‘I’ve often wondered about it, from both sides—the emotional and the physiological. I can see the scientists’ point of view—they say it’s all chemical reaction and nerve synapses—but when Juliet said she’d heard Steven’s voice, that all made sense too. But maybe she just confused someone else’s voice with his, maybe it was you she could hear. Do you remember what you said? If you can remember it could explain whether she heard you or not.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t remember anything specific, it was all rather frantic. I was more interested in trying to save her life than in paying attention to what I was saying. I would have been talking to her, trying to get her to hold on, but more than that I couldn’t say. I’ve never had one of my patients flatline before. I was more concerned about saving her.’

‘Well, I’m very glad you did. I don’t think I could bear to lose Juliet, not after all she’s been through.’ Maggie smiled at him as she spoke but her smile was tinged with sadness, and Ben knew she was thinking of more than just Juliet’s close call. Maggie had lost someone she loved before, and he wondered if she had found love again. ‘And, as for near-death experiences, I’d like to think they’re real.’

‘The white light and the voices…You think people are waiting to guide us to heaven?’

She shrugged her shoulders and her dark hair shone as the sunlight bounced off it showing up shades of red and gold amongst the predominantly dark waves. ‘I don’t know about heaven but I believe there’s another life waiting for us after this one. I think it’s likely to be very different but I need to believe there is something. Even if it’s just a place where souls can meet again. But that’s just my opinion. I’m still not sure if Juliet’s recollection gives any more weight to my theory.’

‘It’s a nice idea though.’

‘Yes, it is.’ Maggie’s eyes met his and for a moment neither of them spoke. He understood her need to believe in an afterlife, in whatever form it came. As a doctor he’d seen that belief get people through some horrendous situations. This sharing of opinions forged a connection between them that didn’t need words. He kept eye contact, amazed again at just how blue her eyes were, their unusual colour accentuated by her dark eyelashes. Other than the bump in her nose her features were remarkably symmetrical and gave her a slight ethereal quality.

‘Thank you for listening.’ Maggie put a hand on his arm. It was an unconscious gesture on her part—he’d swear she was completely unaware of the movement—but the touch of her palm on his bare forearm sent a surge of desire through him that took him by surprise.

She was an attractive woman—physically not more so than a dozen others he knew—but this spark that zipped through him was unusual. There had to be some scientific reason for it; in his mind there was a scientific reason for everything. Even near-death experiences, in his opinion, were simply a by-product of a person’s wiring. Not that he’d pushed that idea on Maggie; he’d been too interested in her thoughts. But chemistry between two people, two strangers, that was stuff of fiction. The spark must simply be due to ions in their bodies or the humidity in the air. Something simple. Something scientific.

‘Look what I got, Uncle Ben.’

An unexpected voice startled him. His nephew was standing in front of him, proudly displaying a bright yellow football and a backpack.

‘Rory! Has the clinic finished?’ He hadn’t noticed the session coming to an end.

‘Rory is your nephew?’ Maggie said. ‘My nephew Edward’s friend? Why didn’t you say something?’

He turned to Maggie—he must have missed some information along the way. ‘I didn’t know there was a connection,’ he admitted. ‘I know that my sister, Gabby, recommended me to Juliet but I didn’t think to ask how they knew each other. It must be through the boys’ school.’ He paused, wondering if this information gave him licence to take another step, before deciding there was only one way to find out. ‘We’re going to have a milkshake now, why don’t you join us?’

‘Thank you, we’d love to but we can’t. I made a deal with Juliet that if she wanted to walk Kate to ballet I’d pick her up afterwards. We’ll have to get going.’

That was OK—she hadn’t knocked him back. ‘Maybe next week, then.’

‘Will you be bringing Rory again?’

‘More than likely. My sister and her husband travel quite often for their business, and I help my parents out with Rory on weekends when I can.’

‘That’s very good of you.’

‘Not at all, I think I get more out of it than Rory. He’s great company.’

‘So, next Saturday, then?’ she said with a smile which he found ridiculously satisfying.

He nodded, pleased she seemed keen to join him, and as he watched her walking away, a slim figure in faded jeans, he tried again to work out what it was about her that appealed to him. He thought back over their conversation. She’d been very open and honest; he guessed there’d be no game playing with her. Perhaps that was her point of difference—she was genuine. Could it be that simple?

As he caught the last glimpse of her as she and Edward left the oval he realised he was already looking forward to next week. She intrigued him, he decided, and he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been able to say that about someone.

Maggie listened to Edward recount the morning’s activities to Juliet as she heated soup for lunch and prepared sandwiches. He didn’t mention Ben, but then why would he? Football had been the big attraction for him.

‘Was it as much fun as Edward thinks?’ Juliet asked her when she came into the kitchen. ‘It didn’t drag on for too long?’

‘Not at all,’ Maggie answered. The time had passed in the blink of an eye.

‘Did you have to help out?’

Maggie shook her head. ‘No, there were plenty of official helpers. It was pretty well organised.’

‘What did you do for an hour, then?’

‘Ben McMahon was there,’ Maggie said, hoping she sounded calm despite her sizzling nerves. ‘I chatted to him.’

Juliet squealed. ‘What did you talk about?’

My dead husband, Maggie thought, knowing that Juliet would have a fit if she admitted this had been a topic of conversation; that was surely a no-go zone in the ‘art of flirting.’ She decided to keep that to herself and went with, ‘This and that—the kids. Ben said that Rory’s parents are away—something to do with their work?’ She changed the subject.

‘I’d forgotten they’re interstate. They run a rather successful art gallery in St Kilda and they focus on indigenous art, Aboriginal and other cultures. They travel a lot.’ Juliet paused and Maggie could almost see the wheels turning in her head. ‘You should get Ben to show you their gallery.’

‘I think he’d have better things to do.’

‘You’ll never know until you ask.’

Maggie could have told Juliet then all about their conversation but she knew it was too complicated to explain how she’d immediately felt comfortable in Ben’s company. How it hadn’t felt strange to talk to Ben about Steven or about such a controversial subject as life after death and people’s perceptions of heaven.

Talking to Ben she’d felt as though her opinion mattered, as though it was worth something. She was an intensely private sort of person, much more so than Juliet, so to have such a revealing conversation with a virtual stranger must say something about Ben. Or maybe it said more about her feelings towards Ben, and she wasn’t ready to share those yet. Not even with Juliet.

Nor was she about to mention the plans for next weekend. She wanted to hug that to herself for a little longer. It felt too precious, and she knew that sharing the news would diminish that. So she just shrugged and concentrated on making lunch and steered the conversation back to Juliet’s morning and then onto their plans and schedule for the following week. It had been a while since her own children had depended on her for everything, and Maggie wanted to make sure she had a handle on what needed to happen in order for Juliet’s household to run smoothly. The kids had had enough upheaval, and Maggie wanted to make things easy for everyone. Focusing on what everyone else needed also meant she didn’t have time to examine her own feelings too closely.

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