The Baby of Their Dreams (Contemporary Medical Romance)

by Carol Marinelli

  Cat smiled. ‘I might just take you up on that!’

  They’d all tried to subtly prise out of her who the father was but had accepted that she didn’t want to tell. Apart from that, though, she was getting on better with everyone. Yes, she was more than back to her old, pre-Mike self.

  Cat was sipping on iced water and trying not to fan herself when Dominic walked in and Marcia and Julia perked up.

  ‘How’s the move?’ Julia asked.

  ‘Not happening till the weekend,’ Dominic said, and took a seat and nodded to Cat.

  ‘Are you on tonight?’ Cat checked, and glanced at the clock. It was only seven and he wasn’t due to start till nine.

  ‘I am. I’m here now if you want to finish up.’

  Cat shot him a warning look. She did not need him babysitting her and so she said nothing.

  She didn’t need to; Julia took care of that.

  ‘So, is it just you moving in?’ she fished. ‘Or have your whole family relocated?’

  ‘Just me,’ Dominic said.

  ‘So you’re not married?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Girlfriend?’ Marcia asked.

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘So you’re single!’ Julia beamed.

  She wasn’t smiling for long.

  ‘Julia?’ Dominic asked. ‘Why would you assume that just because I haven’t got a girlfriend that I’m not in a relationship?’

  She watched Julia frown as she tried to work it out and Dominic got up and left.

  ‘Does that mean he’s gay?’ Marcia asked. ‘Does that mean...?’

  Cat left them to it but she did have to smother her smile as she tapped him on the shoulder in the kitchen. ‘Don’t start coming in early so you can cover for me. If I need help...’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ he said. ‘I’m staying with friends at the moment and they’ve got three children all under five. Believe me, I would far rather be at work.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘So stay if you want to, go home if you like...’

  She stayed, but it was only on principle.

  By 8:00 p.m. the department was quiet and the few patients they had were all either waiting to go to the ward or waiting for their lab work to come back.

  ‘So you’re moving at the weekend?’ she asked.

  ‘Yep.’ Dominic rolled his eyes. ‘I knew I was buying a bomb but when I got the keys... You should see it.’

  She’d like to see it. Only, he didn’t offer.

  The only solace she had was the exclusion zone he’d put around dating, so she knew he wasn’t busy with someone else.

  She just sensed his dark mood.

  ‘I’m going home,’ she said.

  ‘’Night.’

  Yes, his mood was dark.

  It was two years to the day since Heather had died.

  Last year at this time he had realised he had to move on.

  He’d just never expected his life to head in this direction, and moving in at the weekend was going to be hell.

  It was.

  All the furniture he’d had brought down proved to be an expensive mistake, because it ended up being donated. He watched the charity truck drive off with half of his life on board and as he took delivery of a cot he felt as if he were on Pluto.

  He was back in London minus a wife.

  And about to become a father by a woman he barely knew.

  It was time to rectify that.

  Cat came in from work on Sunday evening and there was a note on her door, inviting her to dinner.

  She stopped at the supermarket and bought flowers, which was very back to front, but, then, every part of them was back to front. Seeing her standing there, holding a bunch of daffodils, made him smile when he opened the door.

  ‘I was lying to Marcia and Julia. I’m not gay.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’d worked that one out. You can still like flowers, though.’

  Spring had sprung and he looked in a box to find a glass because he didn’t own a suitable vase.

  He chose not to explain that he had once owned a heavy crystal vase that had been a wedding present but he’d got rid of it and there was a little hand-blown glass one they’d bought on their honeymoon. He couldn’t bear to part with it or put Cat’s flowers in it.

  Then he chose to open up a little.

  ‘It was Heather’s two-year anniversary the other day...’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘And I’ve just got rid of a truckload of our stuff. Not everything, but...’ Yes, he was bad at sharing and so the daffodils got a beer mug, which felt a whole lot better than placing them in their vase.

  She knew there was nothing she could say and Dominic was very glad that she didn’t try.

  ‘Do you want a tour?’ he offered.

  ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

  He saw disaster, Cat saw potential.

  ‘This house is going to be amazing,’ she said as she walked through.

  ‘It smells,’ Dominic said. ‘It didn’t the last time I walked through it.’

  ‘They’d have sprayed something.’ Cat laughed. ‘You’ve got damp...’

  He knew that from the surveyor’s report.

  ‘Not much, though,’ she said. ‘And you could just get rid of this wall...’

  ‘Sure you don’t want to swap houses?’

  ‘I’m very sure.’ She smiled. ‘I’ve got enough to do at mine. I think I’m nesting. I keep washing things and folding things—it’s really disconcerting.’

  ‘Here.’ He opened up a cupboard and pulled out a jumble of laundry. ‘If you feel the need.’

  ‘I shan’t.’

  Dinner was nice.

  A lovely lamb roast he had made, better than the frozen meal Cat would have managed before falling into bed.

  ‘I start nights tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Four of them, and then I’m out of that place.’

  ‘Are you looking forward to stopping work?’

  ‘Now I am,’ she admitted. ‘At first I wanted to work right up to the last minute but not now.’

  She was now thirty-five weeks, soon to be thirty-six, and the thought of four weeks or more of this was daunting, to say the least.

  ‘I got a cot,’ Dominic said.

  ‘I saw.’

  ‘I’m quite sure you don’t want to put up another one...’

  Actually, she did.

  ‘I know she won’t be here much at first, but if she is, it’s better she has somewhere she can sleep,’ Dominic said. ‘I’ll get around to decorating it...’ He looked at the woman who wasn’t the woman he was supposed to have been doing this with and then he looked away.

  ‘I’m really sorry you’re hurting,’ she said.

  ‘It’s not your fault. It just is what it is. Tomorrow’s the anniversary of her funeral. There are just all these bloody dates in March...’

  July was her horrible month.

  This one would be as hard as the first for she’d be telling Thomas that he was a big brother now. She’d be at her happiest and saddest at the very same time and she didn’t quite know how she’d deal with it.

  And, yes, perhaps then she could have told him but she found it impossible to share that most painful part of herself.

  She didn’t trust his reaction.

  The death of a child was agony.

  The death of a child, when it was suggested by the people you love most, even her own parents, that it might be a blessing, made it a place you chose not to go with others.

  One wrong word from Dominic, she knew, would kill her inside.

  ‘I’m going to go,’ Cat said, because they were too new to be too close. ‘Give you some time.’

 
He nodded and saw her downstairs and to the door.

  ‘I want to be there, Cat.’ He said what was on his mind. ‘For the birth.’

  ‘I know you do.’

  ‘I’m not going to push it. I’m not going to demand or anything, I’m just telling you how I feel. I know I said that it didn’t matter but it’s starting to matter more and more to me. I don’t think I’ll be having any more children. I think this little one will be it.’

  He went to touch her stomach and then remembered he couldn’t, uninvited.

  ‘You can,’ Cat said, and he felt the little life when he was so cold today on the inside. Guilt dimmed a touch because how could this be wrong?

  How could falling in love be wrong?

  If, indeed, that was what he was doing.

  ‘Go,’ Dominic said. ‘I need to think.’

  And so too did she.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘DOMINIC WANTS TO be at the birth,’ Cat said as Gemma finished examining her.

  ‘What do you want?’ Gemma asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I wish we had longer to work this all out...’

  ‘You’d have had longer if you’d told him sooner.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’m sure Dominic is thinking the same. I nearly told him about Thomas,’ Cat admitted. ‘And I know that at some point I’ll have to. I’m just missing him more and more with each passing day. I’m missing all the things he missed out on and I know if I tell Dominic I’m going to start howling.’ She looked up and she’d thought Gemma might be cross but her lovely friend had tears in her eyes.

  She hadn’t just delivered Thomas; Gemma had been his godmother. She had held him and loved him when Mike hadn’t. Nigel too had been there, cuddling her baby and not grimacing at his imperfections, the way even her own mother had.

  ‘I’m here for you, Cat,’ Gemma said. ‘As I am for all my mothers. If you don’t want Dominic to be there, you can just say no and I’ll see that it’s enforced. If he is going to be there, he has to know you’re going to be very emotional.’ She gave her a smile. ‘You finish up work this week?’

  Cat nodded. ‘Yes, I’m back here tonight for four nights and then I hang up my stethoscope for six months.’

  ‘Are you okay to work?’ Gemma checked.

  ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘No,’ Gemma said. ‘If you feel up to it, that’s fine. Your blood pressure is normal, everything looks good. You just look tired, Cat. I mean, really tired. I’m more than happy to sign you off for these last few nights.’

  It was incredibly tempting but Cat shook her head.

  ‘I don’t think it’s just the pregnancy that’s causing sleepless nights,’ she admitted. ‘I’ll see these nights through and then I’ll concentrate on Dominic and me and try to decide what the hell I’m going to do about the birth.’

  ‘Come on, then,’ Gemma said. ‘Let’s get out of here. You’re my last patient today and I need to get home. Nigel’s got his French class tonight.’

  ‘He’s still learning French?’

  ‘He is.’ Gemma smiled as she put on her jacket. ‘You know how we had to cancel the honeymoon because of my blood pressure with the twins? Well, he’s determined we’re going to have one. Though why he has to learn French to take me to Paris is beyond me.’

  Cat waited as Gemma handed all the files over to the receptionist and wished her goodnight and then popped in to thank the midwife who had worked with her in the antenatal clinic today. They were out in the corridor and heading for home when Gemma stopped walking and turned to her. ‘Friends now,’ she said.

  ‘Of course.’ Cat frowned and then realised she was about to get a lecture.

  ‘Let him in.’

  ‘I don’t know how,’ Cat said. ‘It’s not just me. He never talks about Heather, or rarely. All I know is that she had a brain tumour, or rather tumours.’

  ‘Why don’t the two of you go away for a couple of days and talk things out while you’re still able to?’ Gemma suggested. ‘You’re thirty-five weeks now. There’s still time. The best day of Nigel’s life was seeing the twins being born. He cut the cords, he held them first...’

  ‘I know,’ Cat said, and then she smiled. ‘Dominic’s parents asked him to film it.’ She thought Gemma would laugh but she just rolled her eyes.

  ‘Tell me about it! I had a father ask if I could move a little to the left the other week so he could get a better shot.’ They both laughed for a moment but then they were serious.

  ‘If Dominic is going to be there at the birth, then he has to know about Thomas. If he’s in the delivery room, he needs to be told that this baby isn’t your first. He’ll find out as soon as you get there.’

  * * *

  Gemma was right, Cat knew as she got ready to go to work that night.

  She had a shower to wake her up and, thank goodness, Cat thought, she no longer had to worry about straightening her hair.

  She massaged conditioner into the ends and then stood there for a good ten minutes, letting the water wash over her, holding her big fat belly and loving the life within.

  He didn’t get to do that, Cat thought as she looked down at the little foot or knee that pressed her taut stomach out.

  Dominic didn’t get to enjoy this simple, beautiful treasure of a moment.

  Perhaps they should go away for a couple of days.

  Talk.

  Or not.

  Just find out a little more about each other before the baby arrived and they attempt to co-parent. They were pretty much on opposite shifts at work, so they didn’t really see each other there. Dominic was busy trying to get the house sorted on his days off and Cat was busy trying to catch up on sleep on hers.

  She got out of the shower and combed through her hair. Everything was an effort and she wondered if she shouldn’t have taken Gemma up on her offer to take these last nights off.

  Despite it having been a nice clear day, it was cool and drizzling outside and the house was cold. She shivered as she crossed the hall and went into her bedroom. Turning on the light, she let out a small curse as the light bulb popped. Yes, she loved her high ceilings but it would be foolish to attempt to get out a ladder in the dark and climb it.

  She’d ask Greg to come and change it for her.

  She needed a Nigel, Cat thought, and then sat on her bed in the dark and surprised herself by bursting into tears.

  No, she didn’t want her own Nigel and she didn’t want her brother dragging himself here on his way home from work just to sort out her light.

  She wanted Dominic.

  Cat laughed at herself, sitting there crying over a light bulb, but it was the very simple things that rammed the big things home.

  She wanted the ease of asking him and didn’t know whether she could or not.

  It was time to find out.

  She used the flashlight on her phone to choose what to wear, knowing that when she got to work she would be changing into scrubs and flat shoes. For now she grabbed her boots. She pulled out a small cami and the now well-worn paisley dress and went downstairs to put them on.

  As she went to pull on her boots she remembered the hell of getting them off, but she’d deal with that later. Right now she couldn’t be bothered to trudge back upstairs and rummage through her wardrobe in the dark.

  Stop crying, Cat told herself as she drove to work, but the tears kept trickling out.

  What the hell is wrong with you? she scolded herself. She parked in her usual spot and walked into Emergency.

  There was Dominic, coming out of a cubicle, and he gave her a brief nod.

  A colleague’s nod.

  Well, what did you want him to do? Cat asked herself. You told him to stay back at work.

  But then he called her back.
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  ‘How come you’re here?’ he checked. ‘You’re not due to start till ten.’

  ‘Oh!’ That’s right, she was on ten till eight instead of the more usual nine till seven. Her brain was so scrambled she kept forgetting the littlest thing.

  Not at work.

  At work she was fine but in all things domestic and mundane her memory was like a sieve.

  She didn’t tell him she’d mixed up her shifts. Instead, she just shrugged and walked into the changing room.

  There was a knock at the door and Cat frowned and opened it.

  ‘You’ve been crying.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘It might look a bit odd if you’re seen in the female changing rooms.’

  ‘Not really. I’m checking on a heavily pregnant colleague who’s clearly been crying.’

  Cat went and sat on the bench as he came in and he stood against the closed door, like a security guard.

  ‘So?’

  She sat there for a moment. ‘Can’t I just be having a bad day?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘How did the appointment go?’

  Ah, that’s right, Cat thought, he was worried about the baby, not her. ‘All good,’ she said. ‘Head down. Gemma offered to sign me off work but only because I’m tired. Everything else is fine.’

  ‘But you’re here.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And tired and teary.’

  ‘My light bulb blew in my bedroom,’ she said.

  ‘You didn’t try to change it?’

  ‘I’m not stupid,’ she answered quickly. ‘No, I didn’t try to change it.’

  She looked up at him and he smiled, then spoke. ‘You won’t ask, will you?’

  ‘I don’t know if I can.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Cat, do you really think you can’t even ask me that?’

  ‘I know I can but what happens next time one blows? I mean, do I call you...?’

  ‘Well,’ Dominic said, ‘from my light-bulb experience, when one goes the others tend to follow, so for the next few weeks I will be on light-bulb duty.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Give me your key and I’ll go and do it on the way home and then drop the key back to you when I come on in the morning.’