by Emily Forbes
'But you only have two.'
'Lexi is on the anti-Atkins diet. She only eats foods containing carbohydrates, preferably jam doughnuts so we can eat the chocolate with guilt-free consciences.'
Jane laughed, which was a good sign, but it was Lexi's response that really pleased him. She was laughing and it was irresistible. Not that it had been that funny, he knew, but she'd always been easily amused at the smallest thing if that sparked her sense of humor. It had never been hard to get a genuine laugh out of her and he hadn't realized until right now that this easy happiness had been missing since he'd met her again. He'd have to keep her laughing—hearing it was as good for the soul as surfing.
Which was the ultimate compliment.
Still smiling, Lexi turned to Jane. 'You're welcome to the chocolate but only if you tell me, honestly, how you're doing.'
'It's all a lot harder than I'd thought.' Jane had stopped working away at the tissues in her palm, which she'd rolled into a soggy mass, and was now able to talk without tears. ‘It was difficult enough with the splint on. I couldn't bath him or dress him properly because his legs were held apart with his hips and knees bent. I couldn't even get us comfortable for his feeds, let alone a cuddle. And now I can't cuddle him properly at all.'
'Maybe we need to talk about your options.' She had her arm around Jane's shoulders. 'Either getting you some more support if you want to stay at home, or going back to hospital until his cast is put on.'
'How am I going to cope then, if I can't even manage traction? The surgeon said the cast is really heavy and hard to keep clean, and it goes up to his waist. I'll never be able to manage. And he has to have a general anesthetic to have the cast on.'
This was clearly one hurdle too many and, lighter moments forgotten, set off a fresh flood of tears.
'That's still a way off, Jane. Let's deal with your situation now, OK? And don't forget, you're not just coping with the traction. Joseph is still presenting you with all the challenges of a newborn baby, so you're finding your way with a whole lot of things at once. Feeding, sleep...' Tom saw Lexi stop herself mid- sentence. 'Are you actually getting any sleep?'
'Yes, a few hours. Colin—' Tom assumed that was her partner '— gives him one of his night-time bottles when he gets off his shift around midnight, so that gives me a break. But I couldn't keep up the expressing so I'm bottle-feeding. The midwife who came out from the clinic raked me over the coals for that. I can't get anything right.'
Tom could see Lexi's shoulders stiffen and he could imagine what thoughts were running through her head. 'You've no choice but to bottle-feed, with Joe in traction.' Her tone was calm and supportive but Tom could hear the quiet anger that Jane had been made to feel inadequate when she needed all the support she could get. 'Not everyone finds it easy to express, and if it's difficult for you then there's nothing wrong with formula. He's had nearly ten weeks of breast milk so you've given him a great start.' She paused to take a breath and he found himself wanting to trace his fingers over the run of color that had appeared in her cheeks, just like it always had when she'd felt moved by an issue. 'What would help you feel you're managing better, if you decide you want to stay at home? I could speak to Community Health about home help. What about friends or family?'
'People have offered but I haven't wanted to impose. I thought I should manage.'
'Because?'
'Because everyone else does.'
'People manage best when they're sensible about accepting the help they need. You'd help people if they were in need, wouldn't you?' Jane sniffed and nodded, a glimmer of a smile appearing. 'And you wouldn't think they'd failed in some way because they let you help them?' She smiled properly now. 'So...' Lexi spread her hands out and tilted her head, waiting for Jane to finish off the rationalization.
Jane nodded. 'You're right. I haven't been thinking straight. I don't have to try and do this all by myself.'
'I'll come and check on Joe on Friday and we'll talk some more then. And I hope to hear you've taken people up on their offers of help ok?'
'Yes. And thanks.' She turned to Tom, stretching out her hand to shake his. 'Sorry about the waterworks. I promise that won't happen if you come again.'
'Don't apologize. Dr Patterson's right, it's a very difficult time for you and you're doing very well to be at home with Joe, full stop. Give yourself some credit.'
'Thanks. And thank you for the chocolate, too.'
'My pleasure.'
Lexi didn't speak until they were in the car. 'That was nice.'
She sounded wistful.
'What?'
'What you said to Jane, you know, "Give yourself some credit."'
'It's true, she's doing a great job managing at all.'
'I know, but it was nice for her to hear it from a stranger, and a man at that. It reinforces it for her because you didn't have to say it and she knows that.'
'Maybe I'll just tag along with you for the next few weeks and add gratuitous pick-me-ups at the end of each visit.' He stretched his arms behind his head and leaned back, knees relaxed. 'This could be the best working holiday I've ever had.'
Lexi took her hand off the gear lever and swatted him on the thigh. 'You're lucky I know you don't mean that.'
He tensed with the contact, wishing she'd leave her hand on his leg, and he made the move to slip her hand inside his own but she'd moved away. He closed his eyes tight and tried to picture the sea, to get a mental image of the perfect wave. That's what he needed. A good, long surf. That was the answer to most of life's problems. It was one of the reasons he'd volunteered for this job: easy access to great surfing and, hopefully, more time to make the most of it. He'd needed to escape from the city and the pressures of his life for a while and this had seemed perfect. But would he have come if he'd known Lexi was here?
He looked across at her as she concentrated on the road ahead. Her face was almost obscured in profile by her thick mass of dark blonde corkscrew curls, just the tip of her small, neat nose visible, and the smooth line of her forehead, glimpses of her face. It was the face of the woman he'd once loved, his first love.
He wouldn't have come if he'd known she'd be here, but it was good to see her, despite the fact that her presence was rocking his already unstable world. He snapped his eyes shut. His personal life was a big enough mess without adding further complications.
'Penny for them?' Her voice broke into his thoughts.
She'd turned to him briefly and his eyes met hers, hazel, large, curious. She'd relaxed with him back at Jane's. The moment of laughter had broken the tension he'd felt emanating from her since he'd surprised her at the photocopier that morning. She looked back at the road.
'I'm looking forward to a surf.'
'Mind firmly on the job, then?'
He laughed. 'And yours was?'
She shook her head, her hair bouncing about her face. 'No, thinking about dinner. It's usually a safe guess with me.'
‘I remember.' He did, too. He remembered more than was good for him, about a lot of things. But he couldn't tell her that. He'd said enough already and there was no point going there, not for either of them. What's done was done, and there was no going back, no reliving the past. He was here to do a job and he wasn't going to forget that. Starting now. Work and surfing had been his salvation before Pelican Beach, and they were still all he needed for his mental and physical health. Together, they were supposed to compensate for his emotional needs. Nothing had changed. Work and surfing—he would make it through. Right now he was at work, so he'd tackle that first. 'We still need to talk about the practice. You must have questions?'
'I do have one.' She glanced over at him for a second. 'Who's going to benefit from this takeover?'
'It's not a takeover.'
'No?'
'No. It's an acquisition, as in merger and acquisitions. Bill wants to sell, Ross wants to buy.'
'So, what's in it for us?'
'The staff?'
'Our patients. Will profi
ts stay here to go into things like preventative programs and education? How do they plan to meet the special needs of an isolated community?'
‘'Is that all?'
'That's not enough?'
'I get the feeling there's something more personal to it.'
'It is personal. This is my town now, I'm part of this community. Not to mention my career is here.' Her tone wasn't combative. She was merely making her point. Maybe she wasn't as against the "acquisition' as he'd imagined. 'I don't want to see the quality of medical service drop. For instance, these house calls we're making right now. We both know if the clinic was being run on a profits-driven basis, this wouldn't be happening—at least, not nearly to the same degree.'
He'd counted his chickens a little too early. Her voice was rising now and he wondered whether he'd made the right decision to bring this topic up while she was meant to be concentrating on driving.
'You'll make more money out of us but where does that leave patients like Jane and Joseph?' She answered her own question before he had a chance. 'They'd be in hospital, not being helped to stay at home, that's where.'
'Maybe that's not such a bad thing in that particular case.' He watched her body language change at his words. Her shoulders tensed and she was gripping the steering-wheel as if she thought it would fly out the window. 'I know I said she was managing well but it would be easier for her to have Joe in hospital.'
She looked around at him, her mouth open, in surprise or horror he wasn't sure, but she was clearly unimpressed, and shook her head before looking back to the road. 'I can't believe—' her voice had dropped now '—you just said that. You've just underscored all my doubts about your proposal.'
'Why?'
'Because you've only been here a matter of days and you're already advocating not meeting patients' needs within the community. Jane has an older child, school age, and her husband does shift work. So she needs to be at home, he can't spend all day at the hospital.'
'I didn't realize.’
She nodded her head, curls bouncing about her face. 'Exactly. So how can a group of Sydney-based doctors possibly understand the needs of an interstate, rural community?' Her speech was slowing down, back to normal speed, and he wondered whether she was cooling down or forcing herself to sound more measured. 'If we're "acquired", then the bottom line will be what's best for the company, not what's best for us. I understand that that's the real world, I just don't accept that will be the best outcome for the practice or the community.'
'I agree I'm here to do a job on behalf of the company. But part of what is good for that company involves assessing what makes a practice run as effectively as possible.'
She looked at him with one eyebrow raised, head tilted a touch to one side, the picture of doubt. She wasn't going to be easily persuaded, so that much about her hadn't changed over the years. She'd become less free with her laughter but she was still firm in her views. Not that he begrudged that about her. He'd learnt the hard way—women with no opinions and life of their own held little interest for him.
'Anything else won't result in a viable long-term practice, which would make it a bad investment. I realize I misjudged Jane's situation but maybe you also need to do your homework on the other practices in the group, see how they run, the quality of services they provide. You might be pleasantly surprised.'
'Maybe.' He could almost hear the unspoken rider, but I doubt it added on.
He suppressed a sigh. 'Look, nothing's decided yet, I've only just started my assessment. If and when an offer to buy out is made, we'd still have to come up with an agreement. We'd never tell you how to treat your patients, only recommend some services over others. Won't you agree to look into it a bit more, keep an open mind?'
'Like you?'
She was staring resolutely ahead at the road and he had a sneaking suspicion she was using their discussion as an excuse to drive some more distance between them. Her mood, and her train of thought, seemed to be changing pretty rapidly today.
'Is there any point in even asking what you're talking about?'
'You said things to me at the park—' had they been talking about the park just now? Weren't they talking about the practice? '—that you shouldn't have said.'
'Before you jump down my throat, I'm not ignoring what you're saying, but weren't we talking about the practice? How'd we get onto this?'
'It's all related. You sail through life and expect everything to be easy. One flash of your smile and doors open. You shouldn't have said that you've never forgotten me.'
So that was it. 'Why not? It's true. It doesn't mean I'm propositioning you.'
‘It sounded like it.'
'Well, I wasn't.'
'Oh.'
'Yes, "Oh."'
1She wasn't going to drop this that easily. 'Because I don't think your wife would like that.'
'Ah, yes, my wife.'
'Yes, the one you seem to keep forgetting about.'
'I was hoping to forget about a number of things while I'm here.'
'You're not making yourself sound any better when you say things like that.'
'What's the point in trying when you're so happy jumping to unflattering conclusions about me?' He ran his fingers through his hair and thought again about his surfing. What had seemed like a great idea twenty minutes ago was rapidly moving into the 'medical necessity' bracket. He could hardly blame her for drawing the conclusion she so clearly had, when he'd kept half the story from her.
Her phone rang and she answered it using her earpiece. Ending the call, she pulled the car over to the verge and made a U-turn. 'That was the clinic. We're done for the day. Our last call went into the surgery instead. Which doesn't prove your point about house calls.'
Had he had a point?
He wished he could shake the feeling he was running three steps behind the action this afternoon. He just couldn't keep up with Lexi's train of thought, her angle on all this. He raked his fingers through his hair again as an alternative to banging his head on the dashboard. 'I'm not looking to raise new issues, Lexi. You've thrown up quite a few already and I'm still not sure what most of them are.' The image of a cold beer appeared in his head. 'Let's call in at the pub on the way back to the clinic and sort it out.'
'There's nothing to sort out.' Her tone belied her words.
'I was as surprised as you to find us working together. I've never forgotten you, like I said, and seeing you again I can't deny I'm still attracted to you. And, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I think its mutual. I know, I know...' He held up his hands, fingers spread wide, to ward off the glare she shot his way. 'You think I'm being inappropriate. But let me ask you one thing—does the fact that I'm separated, no doubt soon to be divorced, redeem the situation in any way?'
CHAPTER FOUR
Damn, he really hadn't meant to go there. He'd been hoping to shut that off and to have a break from the mess his life had become, but it was out now. Lexi had really left him with no choice but to clear the air. He couldn't leave her thinking badly of him.
'You are?' There was an air of disbelief mixed in with her evident surprise.
'I am.'
'I didn't know.'
Her face was set and there was tension oozing from her. For the life of him, Tom couldn't figure out what the problem was now—wasn't he the one who should be offended by her poor opinion of him? He wasn't sure it was a great idea, but if he wanted to know, he'd have to ask. 'Is there something else?'
'Why didn't you tell me earlier?'
'Because it wasn't relevant to why I'm here. Because I've had a rotten year and because I wanted a clean break for a few weeks. If people know things, they invariably want to talk about them, and then I may as well have stayed in Sydney.'
She drove past the pub without slowing down.
'Don't want that drink?' he asked.
‘Not while it's still working hours.'
'I didn't specify alcoholic drink.' He stopped himself and laughed. 'Listen to us, we're argui
ng about every possible thing we can. We never used to do that, not until...' He stopped himself again and wondered what to say. That was a topic they'd both avoided, even though he supposed they'd have to talk about it at some stage. But not now. He changed the subject. 'Is there anything else you want cleared up?'
'Are you getting back together? Is this a trial separation?'
'I very much doubt it. It was all over in everything but name a long time ago, but that hasn't made it any easier.'
She was nibbling on her lip and he could tell she wanted to ask something else. She took her gaze off the road and looked his way. He was a sucker for those eyes of hers but there was a sadness in the hazel depths of her gaze that left an ache in his heart. But at least she didn’t look angry.
A half-smile—a hint of regret?—turned one corner of her mouth up before she looked back at the road. 'We're almost back at the clinic—you’ll be catching waves in no time.'
So, she could do a neat line in conversation switches, too, when it suited her. He should be grateful. She was handing him an escape from the emotional head-whacking she'd just subjected him to, but it felt like she was pulling down the shutter between them and he was missing the intimacy of their fighting already.
Why had he done that to her?
Lexi started setting up her workstation in the school hall, ready for the immunization clinic, operating on autopilot as she worked through the dilemma Tom's presence in town was presenting her with.
She positioned her container for disposing of used needles to the side of her table and shuffled baskets of syringes and cotton swabs, sticky tape and stickers to reward children with after their shots. If only there was a vaccine against never getting over your first love, she'd be doing fine. She'd almost managed it, she'd almost had herself convinced he was nothing like the Tom she'd once known, when he'd turned the tables on her by admitting he was separated, and not just a trial separation. That sounded pretty final.
He wasn't off limits now and that eradicated her only real reason for being angry with him. She'd tried keeping her distance instead, but his job here involved spending time with all of them at the practice. She was in very real danger of making a fool of herself if she in any way admitted she'd never got over him.