All I Want For Christmas

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All I Want For Christmas Page 5

by Emily Forbes


  He was laughing at her, patting his hands against his shorts pockets, shaking his head. 'My memory must be worse than I thought or I'd have brought some paper napkins with me. I'd forgotten what a messy eater you are.'

  And then, just as she could feel the jam moving lower, ready to drip on her clothes at any moment, he was scooping his fingers across her chin, taking the bag away from her and using it to clean them both up.

  'So, you're still a klutzy-goose.' His voice was soft, almost a caress.

  She laughed. 'And you're just as impolite as always.' They both knew she was teasing.

  'But I make up for it with beach-side snacks after all-night deliveries.' He gave her chin one last brush with his fingers for good measure. It was impossible to keep her distance from him. She'd already broken her meter-wide rule a zillion times since she'd made it. And every time he so much as smiled, her hormones went into overdrive. The hospital environment had at least provided some protection—she was far too used to being the professional to have let her standards slide. But now? Electric reactions just because someone wiped her face? She was in trouble. For distraction, she concentrated on the sticky remains of her doughnut.

  'Back to Mollie. When I saw her and she was a mini-you, I jumped to all the wrong conclusions. That's what I wanted to apologize for. If I hadn't already had such a surprise, seeing you again, I would've stopped and thought things through before shooting my mouth off.'

  'You're not the first one to think Mollie's my daughter.'

  'But I bet you haven't had too many men think she's their offspring.' He leant forward and lifted a curl from in front of her eyes, bending his head to watch her, his blue eyes soft and kind.

  She smiled. 'That was a first.'

  ‘It was a stupid thing to accuse you of. I know how adamant you were about not having children back then.' Lexi felt a sharp pain in her chest—regret, guilt, eating her doughnut too quickly? 'But you know how much I wanted children of my own, still want them.'

  Did he not have any, then? An emotion, which might have been hope, surged in her breast before she remembered that he might be childless but he was still married.

  'When I saw you and Mollie, it was like all my dreams coming true.' He was crunching the paper bag in his fist as he spoke, focusing on it, and his next words caught her by surprise. 'I've never forgotten you, Lexi.'

  Lucky she'd swallowed the last of her doughnut or she might have choked. 'I don't think your wife would like to hear that.'

  He stopped crumpling and looked at her at last. 'My wife?'

  Was it her imagination or did he look troubled for a split second? This was too much. Her perfect man, plonked back into her life, off limits, and now it looked like she might have to battle not only with her own temptations but possibly his as well. But that would make him a very different Tom to the one she'd loved, and until this moment she'd thought he hadn't changed. Was he unhappy in his marriage? Was that why he could talk like this to her?

  'Shouldn't you be talking to her about children, about a family?'

  He shrugged. 'I can't help thinking that if I'd handled things differently, it might have saved me from going on to make other mistakes.'

  'It's all in the past,' she said, but temptation was whispering other leading questions in her ear, questions she'd dearly love to ask, questions that would get her answers she wanted to hear.

  'As you say, it's all in the past.' He stood and aimed the crumpled bag at a nearby bin, sinking it at first go, and it was like that was enough to shut the compartment of his mind that he'd briefly opened before switching his attention to something else. 'I'll let you get home to Mollie. You must be exhausted.'

  Lexi quelled her frustration, her mind still replaying their conversation as she stood and fell into step beside him. Curse the female mind for being able to think about pretty much the entire universe simultaneously. This conversation would be playing on her mind endlessly while Tom moved straight onto his next train of thought. Proven admirably by his next words.

  'What's a regular Sunday look like for the Patterson family?'

  She shook her head and laughed.

  'What?'

  'Nothing. Just thinking about the differences between the male and female minds.'

  ‘Do I want to go there?'

  'I doubt it.' Another difference—any suggestion of something emotional lurking about the place and most women she knew would be rolling up their sleeves and in there, boots and all, until they'd got their answers. Chalk it up to experience.

  'Ok, then, so...Sundays at the Patterson’s.'

  'Church, a bike ride, Mum's roast for lunch or dinner. Or a combination thereof.' She could feel him looking at her. 'What?'

  ‘Sounds great.'

  'You're teasing me?'

  'You'll know when I'm teasing you, Lexi, and this isn't one of those times. I mean it, your Sundays sound perfect.'

  They were back at the car park and she fished out her keys, unsure how to answer. What was going on with him? What did she have that he could be so envious about? He was the one with the impressive career, the big-city lifestyle, the marriage. A bike ride and a roast dinner were pretty simple additions to make, so why sound like she had it so good?

  'Maybe I'll join you for a Sunday while I'm here.'

  Lexi jammed her keys into her car lock before turning back to him. 'Is that really appropriate, Tom?'

  'Is it inappropriate?' Even in the face of her disapproval, he sounded relaxed, nothing adversarial in his tone, not letting her reactions faze him.

  'You tell me.'

  'My life's complicated right now. It's not something I want to go into.' For the first time, there was a touch of impatience in his voice, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. 'I'm just talking about a meal, a trip to the beach. Hanging out.' He tilted his head and aimed a lopsided smile at her, laughter filling his voice. 'Cut me some slack, would you? I'm the new kid in town and I haven't got anyone to play with.'

  'Same old charm.' Which unfortunately had already worked its magic on her. 'Which also means you'll have five new best friends by the time clinic starts tomorrow.'

  'Ouch.' He grinned and she realized she was in more trouble than she'd thought. His smile alone had her head spinning with thoughts she just shouldn't be having.

  She opened her door before realizing that Tom was stranded. He'd come to the hospital with her. 'Do you need a lift?' She hoped he’d decline the offer, she wasn't ready to be cooped up in her small car with him again just yet, in direct firing line of that killer grin.

  He shook his head. 'Thanks, but I think I'll walk back along the beach.'

  Lexi exhaled with relief and slid into the driver's seat. 'Thanks for the doughnut. And the milk.' She shut the door and wound down the window, peering up at him. 'See you tomorrow, Dr Edwards.'

  By the time Lexi arrived at work on Monday she felt completely exhausted. She'd slept the rest of Sunday morning away, trying to catch up, but that had resulted in her tossing and turning all Sunday night. Every time she'd closed her eyes she'd seen images of Tom and now that she was at work she was still finding her thoughts drifting to him.

  What she wouldn't give to have a compartmentalized mind like that of a male. Sure, that could well mean sacrificing awareness of anything but the exact job she was busy with at any given moment, but it would make life a lot simpler. Hadn't she read somewhere recently that men's brains were, in fact, wired differently to women's, giving them a watertight, biologically based excuse for not being able to multi-task? Imagine being able to walk into work and say, 'Right, time to concentrate on business and business only,' instead of having a dozen things on the go at once.

  'Doing your own admin work?'

  Startled, Lexi knocked her hand against the lid of the photocopier as Tom's voice sounded just behind her. 'Ouch!' She turned to him, rubbing her hand, 'What's with the sneaking around?'

  'It's all part of the evaluation process.'

  He was joking, she knew. The
re was laughter in his eyes but he'd reminded her why he was here, and it wasn't for reasons consistent with her own interests. Which meant she had a legitimate excuse to use to keep her distance from him. She needed to focus on that, because her hormones were dancing to their own tune whenever he was near her. He was married and she needed to put up as many barriers as she could to protect herself from her own desires.

  She'd taken too long to reply, and he added, 'Hey, Lexi, I was joking.'

  'I know you're not here to spy. But you are here on behalf of someone wanting to take us over, and I'm not sure that's the best thing for us.'

  'Why?'

  'Lots of reasons.' None of which were coming readily to mind when he was looking down at her like that, his brow knotted, his blue eyes creased with what looked like concern.

  'Have you got time to talk about this? You made it clear that first day you weren't keen on Nightingale Clinics becoming involved, but I thought that might have been surprise talking— surprise at seeing me.' His gaze was roaming over her face, searching for her reaction. 'If there's more to it than that, we should discuss it.'

  She shrugged. 'I'm trying to get on top of some paperwork...' she held up the sheaf of papers she was holding '...before house calls this afternoon.'

  'Then there's our solution.' His broad grin lit up his face and reinforced for her why spending more time with him might be a mistake. His smile was mesmerizing, a flash of white in a face of brown. She leaned back against the photocopier for support. Her legs were threatening to behave unpredictably, her knees a trifle shaky under the high beam of Tom's grin. ‘I have to spend time with each of the staff as part of the process, so we'll spend this afternoon together. We can talk while we drive.'

  There was a challenge in his eyes, a challenge to her to come up with an excuse. She opened her mouth then shut it again. She couldn't think of a reason and if he was determined to come on house calls with her, she may as well get it over and done with. She'd just have to remember not to look at him when she was driving, in case he smiled. If her legs went shaky on her then, they could be in difficulty.

  Getting it over and done with was one thing, but this was turning into the most excruciating afternoon she'd had for some time and they were less than an hour into the calls.

  She reached to change gears, and as her hand closed around the gear lever, she wished for the umpteenth, illogical time that he'd close the inches between them and cover her hand with his.

  Ridiculous!

  Her response was every bit as intense as when she'd initially fallen for him. She could remember it as though it were yesterday: the excruciating bliss of thinking about him every second, waiting, hoping he felt the same way. The exquisiteness of the first time he'd held her hand, the first time he'd kissed her. It was all there, burned into her memory, and her senses now were completing a full-scale betrayal by treating her to almost constant flashbacks of her time with him, how his arms had felt about her, his warm lips on her bare skin.

  The walls she was trying to put up between herself and temptation were under constant assault. She drew her concentration inward and practiced breathing through her mouth rather than her nose so at least her olfactory memory wouldn't have to contend with the scent of him, too. Because he still smelt the same and sitting next to him in the car, breathing in the smell of fresh air, salty waves, the sea, scents that never seemed to leave him, was proving to be another short-cut down memory lane.

  'Where to next?'

  Lexi risked a glance across at the man turning her world upside down. He was relaxed in his seat, whereas she was gripping the steering-wheel like a rally-car driver. She was torturing herself with trips down memory lane and he was thinking about house calls. What did she expect? He wasn't here for her. And she should be glad about that, rather than irritated.

  She forced her mind back onto work. 'Joseph Peters, a ten-week-old infant who's at home in traction for congenital hip displacement.'

  'Splinting didn't work?'

  'No, he was in a von Rosen splint for six weeks with no success.' She pretended she was giving a case summary to Bill or Pete then the words flowed a little easier. 'His surgeon put him into traction last week and let him home under my supervision until he has his cast applied.' She flicked on the indicator and turned off the road onto a winding dirt driveway. Another minute or so and the close proximity would be at an end and, for a while at least, she'd have a reprieve. Then maybe she'd be able to withstand the assault on her senses on the next leg of the drive.

  'Here we are,' she said, and hoped she'd kept the note of relief in her voice from being too obvious.

  Lexi reached the end of the driveway and slowed to a stop. Tom climbed out of the car, unfolding his limbs, wishing he'd thought to drive—his Jeep was far more suited to his height. He followed Lexi across the grass. He stood back as a young woman, who didn't look like she'd seen a hairbrush in some time, opened the front door in response to Lexi's knock.

  'Hi, Dr Patterson.'

  'Hi, Jane. This is Dr Edwards.' Lexi gestured in his direction. 'A locum with us for a few weeks.' Tom raised his hand in greeting but knew Jane's mind was elsewhere. 'Is it OK if he checks on Joseph, too?'

  The woman nodded and motioned for them to come into the small house, where they picked their way around mounds of washing, books and various odds and ends strewn across the living-room floor.

  Joseph was lying on a specially constructed platform placed on top of a table, his traction provided by means of an overhead frame. Tom couldn't imagine opting to try and care for a young baby at home in these circumstances instead of keeping him in hospital.

  Lexi's train of thought seemed to be along much the same lines. 'How are you coping, Jane?'

  'It's pretty hard going, I'm wondering if I made the right decision to come home with him.'

  Tom hung back, giving the two women some space. Watching Lexi at work was a new experience for him and he was curious to see her in action. He hated to admit it, but he wanted to know about the older Lexi—what motivated her, what made her tick, what made her laugh, what made her cry. Five years ago she'd had a strong desire to achieve, she'd set goals and hadn't pretended that she wasn't aiming to fulfil them. He'd never doubted that she'd have specialized in orthopedics—which had been her intention and ultimately the end of their relationship. A baby hadn't been on her agenda, not until she'd climbed her career ladder, and maybe not even then. To say he'd been surprised to find her practicing as a GP was an understatement. He wondered what had thrown her plans awry—her sister's death was too recent to be the instigating factor. He wanted to know why she'd changed her goals, and when. Was she still the same Lexi or had other things changed, too?

  Seeing her work this afternoon made it clear that she loved her job. Her time, her attention, her compassion—she gave one hundred per cent to her patients and they responded to her. But, then, she'd always given one hundred per cent effort in anything she did. So why had she given up on her dream of specializing?

  He saw her squeeze Jane's hand. 'Why don't I check Joe and then, if you've got time, we can have a cuppa and a chat? Pretend you're a regular person for five minutes and not only a mum.'

  'That sounds wonderful. I'll put the kettle on.

  'I don't mind doing it when I've finished with Joe. Why don't you sit down?'

  Jane shook her head. 'It's OK.' She walked slowly out of the room, leaving Tom to watch Lexi unobserved. Her examination was careful and thorough, as if she had all the time in the world. He knew she was worried about her patients missing out on this one-on-one attention if the practice changed hands. He didn't deny this service was important, and he knew he was supposed to be assessing the viability of the practice and the health care it offered, but his mind kept wandering to Lexi. He felt himself slipping back down memory lane. First seeing Mollie and now watching Lexi with a baby—he was racing down a slippery slope called "what if?1

  What if he'd handled things differently when she'd told him she
was pregnant with his child?

  What if she'd gone ahead with the pregnancy?

  Watching her now, watching when she'd delivered the twins, hearing her when she talked about her niece, something just didn't add up. She'd said she wasn't ready for children back then. Sure, they'd been young, but the woman he'd seen since arriving in Pelican Beach had natural-born nurturer written all over her—what had changed?

  Another "what if” occurred to him. What if the baby hadn't been the real issue? What if it had been more that he hadn't been the right man for her? The room stilled for an instant and he looked at Lexi as he'd never looked at her before. He'd never thought she might have him.

  Jane came back with a tray of tea and Tom did a double-take when he saw tears running down her cheeks. Before he could move Lexi had stopped examining the baby and taken the tray. 'Sit down, let me pour the tea.' Lexi's voice was gentle, coaxing. She put her arm around Jane and that simple touch was enough to start a fresh flood of tears. Jane's shoulders shook as she sobbed. 'Shh. It's OK.'

  'The biscuits are all finished.'

  Lexi looked up, over the top of Jane's head, and Tom met her gaze, a slight gleam of humor in her eyes, not humor at Jane's expense, he knew, more an acknowledgement at how the tiniest hiccup could be the last straw in times of stress. Whereas, for them, the lack of biscuits was pretty far down the scale of the potential problems they faced. He winked at Lexi and was rewarded with a proper smile. He was amazed to find one smile could make him feel so good. The prospect of earning a second had him searching for a solution to the biscuit crisis. He knelt down to rummage through his medical bag.

  'Would a chocolate bar be a suitable substitute for the biscuits?' He stood up, two chocolate bars in hand, and offered them to Jane. A quick glance at Lexi—yep, still smiling. Back to Jane, who had lifted her head and was wiping her tears away with the back of one hand. 'Emergency rations,' he explained as he handed one to Jane, along with some tissues.

 

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