by Emily Forbes
He crossed the passage and knocked on the door of the second treatment room, situated between Lexi's and Donna's surgeries. No answer. Entering the room, he saw Lexi's connecting door was ajar and he could hear her talking with her patient. Should he make his presence known or just close the door? No, he'd be less intrusive if he just found what he needed and left. Trying to stay quiet, he hunted through the storage compartments for the correct gauge needle, the conversation from next door drifting into the room.
'I've got an offer of part-time work.' Tom recognized the woman's voice, someone he'd seen in the clinic at some point. 'I can't go back to work if I'm going to have another baby.'
'Try not to make any hasty decisions, Sharon. There'll always be other jobs.' Sharon. Tom racked his brain—yes, he remembered her, she'd brought one of her children in to see him last week. Her husband had just been made redundant. Tom hadn't realized she was pregnant again.
'But we need the money.' Her voice was rising a little. 'We didn't plan on having any more kids.'
'I know money's tight for you but I think you need some time to digest this news before you make any decisions.' Lexi's voice was soft and calm, not overtly directive, but, still, she was singing a very different tune than she had five years ago when she'd been in a similar situation. Plus, she was in a position of authority—the doctor advising the patient. Her angle on Sharon's situation wasn't sitting well with him. 'Things may seem very different in a few days.'
He knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping, especially when he knew the patient's identity. He found what he was looking for and slipped back out of the room to his surgery, but Lexi's words were still bothering him when he finished his consultation so, as Mr Symonds left, he headed for her office.
'Come in,' she responded to his knock at her door.
He pressed down on the handle and poked his head in to check if she was alone. So far, so good. 'Got a minute?'
Her face had broken into a wide smile the moment she'd seen it was him, and she waved him into her room. She probably expected him to say something about last night, but he really didn't know what and right now the overheard conversation was pressing much more heavily on his mind. 'I was in the treatment room and I overheard part of your conversation with your patient. Am I right in assuming that was Sharon Bell, mother of Dylan?'
Lexi was nodding, looking puzzled by his topic of conversation. 'What about her?'
'I saw her last week when she brought Dylan in with a chest infection. I didn't realize she was pregnant.'
'Neither did she until today.' Her eyebrows were drawn together, her head tilted to one side. 'What difference does it
make? Dylan doesn't have an infectious disease.'
'This isn't about Dylan. Sharon didn't sound too thrilled about becoming a mum again.'
'Let's just say it wasn't part of her plan for the immediate future.'
'But you were trying to convince her otherwise.'
She shrugged, her bemused expression still evident. 'I was asking her not to make any hasty decisions she may regret down the track. She's a good mum and loves her kids. She needs some time to get over the shock.' She paused briefly. 'What's this to do with you?'
'In theory, nothing, but I have to admit I'm confused. Sharon and her husband don't want more children, she needs to return to the workforce, yet you, who was so adamant about women's rights to make these decisions for themselves, seem to be trying to tell her what to do. I don't want to offend you, but isn't that a touch hypocritical?'
Her eyes had widened now, the bemused expression replaced by tenseness in her facial muscles. 'I beg your pardon?'
He'd have to soften his words. He'd already made her angry, which wasn't the plan, not the best way to go about their first meeting since last night on the beach, but he'd started on this track now and, truth be told, he did want to know. 'You were in a similar situation—pregnant, your working life mapped out, albeit you were probably in a better position financially.' He almost added, And you certainly weren't celebrating your pregnancy, but his instinct for self-preservation stopped his tongue.
Nonetheless, Lexi's eyes were blazing fire as she said, 'You’re the hypocrite, telling me we had to get married, had to keep the baby and give it a proper family. It was all right to have sex before marriage but it wasn't all right for a child to be raised by a single mother.'
Had he been hypocritical? He mulled that over.
'You have no idea what I went through,’ she continued. Neither do you have any idea of Sharon's situation. There's a lot you don't know, Tom.' The fight went out of her and she looked tired.
He responded by softening his voice. 'Then tell me.'
'This isn't the time or the place.'
'Lex, don't fob me off. If there are things to be said, just get on with it. We both know this talk is overdue.'
'Not here.'
He wasn't going to pushed aside again. He was sure he could still read Lexi's expressions and, if he was right, there was plenty more to the story. He'd thought they just had to clear the air and put their differences behind them as best they could, but it looked like he'd never had the full story. 'I've told you I've never forgotten you. That was true but I've never forgotten the baby either, our baby.'
He saw it in her eyes as he spoke—a flash of regret—and knew she'd never forgotten their baby either. No matter what she'd said and done at the time, she'd never forgotten.
He pushed on. 'Maybe that's the real reason I ended up in Pelican Beach, so we can put the past behind us.'
He had to get her some place where she couldn't avoid the conversation they had to have. Whether or not it would lead to a resolution, whether they'd be able to indulge the attraction that was undeniably still sizzling between them, they needed to sort out their past once and for all. 'Have dinner with me.' He could see her wavering and he turned on the charm, the charm she claimed to resent, sending her what he hoped was a killer smile, dropping his voice to a caress. 'Tonight. Please.'
She was still wavering and he waited, knowing when to ease off. When she nodded he knew that night would mark a turning point in their history. But whether it would be a turning point to a better understanding of each other or take them in the direction of recriminations and bitterness, he didn't know.
Five hours later, Lexi opened the door and felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of Tom leaning with one hand against the door frame, seeming to tower over her. He looked like he'd come straight from the beach, and he probably had, with a quick detour for a shower. Hair wet and tousled, cheeks ruddy with exercise, skin literally glowing. She felt frumpy all over again even though she'd had the benefit of a shower and a meeting with the contents of her little-used make-up bag. She'd always thought of him as the gorgeous one in their relationship but she'd never felt second best next to him. Time had changed that. She tugged on the hem of her top, hoping it covered a multitude of sins, like too little exercise.
It must have done the trick because his eyes were all appreciation as he said, 'You look gorgeous, Lexi.' His gaze travelled down to her toes then back again as he added, 'I haven't seen you in anything except black and jeans since I got here. Color suits you, it always did.'
She hoped color did suit her because his compliments had added a whole new flush of it to her cheeks. She resisted the urge to cover a cheek with her hand—it would only draw attention to her discomfort and let him know he could still affect her. She ignored the compliment instead.
'Shall we get going?'
He grinned at her, letting her know he'd noticed her side-step the positive remark, and if she still knew him at all, he'd probably file the incident away to raise later.
Tom stepped back and extended an arm, inviting her to walk with him to his car, but she made a show of fussing with the front door, checking it was locked, and let the moment pass, walking next to him instead, not touching. She wasn't ready for this—for the truth after all these years. There was no going back but every atom in her body was screamin
g out for her to do just that so she started to chat instead, about anything, nothing, aiming to keep the mood light, prove to him and to her that they were acquaintances, nothing more. Anything to drown out the insistent pull and tug of her body to be near him, hold him, feel him. A tug that hadn't diminished one iota despite his apparent disapproval of the way she'd handled Sharon earlier that day.
'I'm surprised you were free tonight.'
'I'm free every night. Your predictions about my charm haven't come to pass. I don't even have one new best friend.' He matched her light-heartedness with ease.
She smiled up at him. 'I know for a fact you've had all sorts of invitations since you got here, and you've only turned down
those that interfered with your surfing.'
'Keeping tabs?'
'You forget, this is a country town—everyone hears everything about everything.'
He chuckled. 'So, is it safe for us to debrief in a public place?'
She laughed again. 'That sounds romantic.'
'If it was romance I thought you were looking for, I wouldn't just be taking you to dinner.'
Because, no matter what else happened, that was the one thing he couldn't give her. Something that sounded like the kerplunk of a disappointed heart rang in her ears. She hoped she was the only one who'd heard it. 'Off romance?'
He was grateful there didn't seem to be any hidden disappointment in her voice as she asked the question, and he answered with the truth. 'For life, I'd say. But this is about clearing the air for old times' sake, like you said.'
Because it was true. He was off romance, love and relationships for life, but if things had worked out between them five years ago, their story might have been vastly different. It was too late for that now. Life had taken other twists and turns. They were on separate paths now and that was fine, but there was still obviously something between them that needed resolving and he had no reservations about spending an evening with her to do just that. Like he'd said, they both knew it wasn't about romance.
He was still telling himself that an hour later as they sat looking over the beach to the moonlit waves crashing on the shore, wondering at the lack of sense behind his decision to choose the most romantic setting possible for a debriefing session. They'd both been ducking and weaving around the reason behind their dinner since they'd arrived, seizing on neutral topics instead. What news they'd heard of old friends and acquaintances, recounting funny work stories, behaving like two old friends catching up on superficial aspects of times past, neither wanting to be the first one to raise more uncertain subjects. He'd pretty much picked a fight with her that day at work-it hadn't been his intention to do so and it had left him feeling rattled in the hours since. It was much more pleasant to be sitting with her now in the scented night air. In the back of his mind, he was formulating ways of raising what they were really here to talk about, trying to choose the alternative that would be least antagonistic.
As their meals were served, conversation lulled and the first slightly awkward pause descended on them. Tom focused on his food, cutting slices of his snapper with unnecessary precision, still unsure how to ask the questions he wanted the answers to without offending her, without sounding accusatory. Feeling her gaze on him, he met her eyes and wished, not for the first time, that he'd chosen a brightly lit, loud pub for their dinner. She looked too beautiful for words in the soft glow of the restaurant lights, her face a picture of concentration, framed by those curls. His gut tightened at the thought of tangling his fingers through her hair and tugging her towards him, tasting her lips with his own, drinking her in. He followed the direction of his thoughts with his eyes, focusing on her mouth, and felt her do the same to him.
This was dangerous ground, letting the memory of the old attraction between them influence his responses now. It was amazing how strongly the memories came back and made him recall things that were best left in the past. That was the only explanation for the way his gut was tightening, because his resolve had never been firmer: there'd be no more serious involvements for him. Not here, not now, not ever. Even if her lips were impossibly pink and kissable and her scent was wafting over him, teasing him, making him want things that couldn't be.
She broke the silence. 'Seems odd to be here after all these years, doesn't it? In some ways, it seems like no time has passed at all.'
'Whereas in reality we don't know one another at all anymore.' That hadn't been one of the ways he'd considered raising the topic of their shared past. Had he been too blunt? Lexi seemed to think so, judging by the flicker of hurt in her eyes, but she didn't miss a beat.
'So we can leave it like that or we can fill in some blanks. Pick a box.' She popped a prawn into her mouth and tilted her head to one side as she chewed, waiting for his answer, whacking the verbal ball into his court for him to make the call: expose the past or leave well enough alone.
'Do I really want to hear what you have to tell me?' He'd been sure he did—why else had he gone into her room today?— but now he wasn't so sure. He felt vulnerable sitting here with her, the past flirting with them both, playing tricks on his mind.
'Maybe not, but it's like Pandora's box. You won't be able to bear not knowing.'
'All right, the metaphorical lid is off. Tell me what I don't know, tell me about your pregnancy.'
'I didn't have a termination. I changed my mind.'
The world spun for a second as he made rapid mental calculations. His hand holding his loaded fork stopped midway to his mouth as he gaped at her. 'So, Mollie...'
She shook her head and waved her hand at him, impatient. 'No, Mollie isn’t, I decided I couldn't go through with a termination, not once I saw the baby on the ultrasound, and I would've told you that, but by that time you'd already gone and then...’
He watched her carefully and, although he didn't want to admit it, he knew he was watching for signs that she wasn't telling the truth. Why, he didn't know, but he needed to know the truth once and for all.
'Then I had a miscarriage before I could tell you.'
'Oh, Lex.' His heart plummeted at the thought of her going through that alone. Why hadn't she told him? 'But you still never got in contact. Why not? I would've been there for you.'
'But you weren't.' He felt the recrimination in her words even though her voice was soft. It was all the more powerful for that. 'I know I didn't handle it well either, but I really felt you weren't there for me. You didn't once try and understand where I was coming from, just decided your view was the only one and that was the answer—get married and have the baby, even though we weren't at all ready for either one. Just because your path was the "noble" one, it didn't make it right to ride roughshod over my feelings.'
'I didn't know you saw it that way.'
'You never bothered to ask, Tom. You laid down the law and that was that. It was all black and white, all so easy in your eyes, but life isn't like that, our situation wasn't like that.'
'But now you say you agreed with me, you weren't going to go through with a termination, so why blame me?'
'I don't blame you. Although I might have at the time.’
He watched her fiddling with the salt shaker, searching for words.
'OK,’ she admitted, ‘I did blame you then, but I'm not blaming you for the outcome. I know I could've handled it all better. What I'm saying is you didn't listen to me, didn't hear me. I didn't need to have solutions imposed, I needed your support, your understanding. I needed you to let me work things through for myself.'
He tried to take in her words without getting defensive, but all he could hear was that she did blame him, that he'd messed up, failed to fix the problem. Sure, she might sound like she was saying otherwise, but he could read the sub-text: he'd had the right answer but he hadn't packaged it right or delivered it at the right time. It was hard not to get defensive. He tried. He failed.
'So, it was all right for you to come up with a decision but not for me. I had to wait for you to say what you wanted and then ag
ree with you, even though I'd already come to the same conclusion?'
'Is that really what you've heard me say?'
'I think that's a fair summary.' He could feel his legendary cool deserting him in waves. He'd spent years thinking 'what if: what if he'd handled things differently, what path might his life had taken? And here she was, landing him with a bombshell that not only had she agreed with him that they should have had their baby, but that he was still to blame for having wanted the same thing as her. It was too much.
She reached out and grabbed his hands, squeezing them between hers as she looked him square in the eye. Her touch should have felt unwelcome—they were nothing to each other now after all—but the coolness of her slender fingers wrapped around his own was soothing. 'It's happening all over again. Can't you see? I'm trying to tell you how I felt, what happened from my point of view. Meanwhile, you're trying to fix the problem, and if you can't do that, you think I'm blaming you for it.'
He started to debate the point again but she went on, a slight smile flirting around her mouth. 'Get this through your thick skull, Superman, sometimes a woman doesn't want to be rescued, she just wants to be listened to. But apparently listening skills are the modern-day Superman's kryptonite.'
'I listened.'
She let the words hang in the air between them until he felt compelled to fill the silence. 'Didn't I?'
Lexi shook her head and let go of his hand, picking up crumbs from the tablecloth and depositing them on her bread plate. 'No. I'm not saying you shouldn't have had a view, had some input, but I felt you steamrolled me.' She leant forward now with her elbows on the table, her small heart-shaped face cupped in her hands. 'Anyway, now you know. And just for the record, I'm sorry I didn't contact you at the time. I think it was all too much and I felt like we'd run our course.'
'And had we?' The words surprised him even as he heard himself speak them. What did it matter after all these years? There was no going back and he wasn't in the market for starting over. With her or anyone else.