by Sue MacKay
Don’t forget the most worrying. Not that being pregnant was troubling, but what came afterwards was. Being a full-time mother, making all the decisions regarding her daughter and praying she got them right. There was no one to fall back on when she needed reassurance. Once she’d have had her parents but really they now had too much to deal with to need their daughter demanding help with a problem she’d caused. No, she was on her own for this ride.
Nothing in her life had undermined her confidence as pregnancy had. The stack of books on the bedside table about caring for a baby underscored that. The contents list on her internet screen highlighted that. She soaked up all the available information, ignored her colleagues’ comments that nurses worried too much, and read some more.
‘I’ve totally confused myself. For every expert who says do one thing there are as many saying the opposite.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Jess kept telling her. ‘The moment I place your baby in your arms it will all come together. Believe me. I felt the same before Nicholas was born.’
Which did nothing to bolster her confidence. It wasn’t as though she could go bang on the doors of the experts who got it wrong and give them a telling-off. She didn’t know who was right or who was wrong.
She sighed. ‘Grady’s shown up and all these unwanted needs are ramping up inside me.’ Another sigh, softer this time. ‘He kissed me goodnight.’ Her finger traced her lips. Never in all the intervening years had it occurred to her she’d receive another Grady kiss. She should’ve rammed the car in reverse and shot out of his yard faster than a 747 on take-off. But she hadn’t. Because? That kiss had sneaked up on her. It had been wonderful. Exciting, caring, hot. Grady. Did he regret leaving me?
He’d said something about wanting to come back. To her. That didn’t make sense when he was planning to sell the house. Had he been testing the waters? Or had he been consumed with the need to taste her, to find he’d done the right thing when he’d left her?
Her fists banged down on the mattress. ‘Go away, Grady. Take your kiss with you. Climb back in your box and leave me alone. Please.’
‘Please,’ she whispered again. Deep breaths. In, out. In, out. Relax. Arms first. Fingers uncurled, hands loose, lower arms. Upper arms. Toes.
The urge to roll on her side and face the empty half of her big bed was relentless. Refusing to give in, she stared at the ceiling, her hands clenched at her sides, and breathed deeply. Uncurled her fingers, shook her hands loose.
Imagined Grady in that space next to her. His long legs reaching to the bottom of the bed. His wide chest covering more than his share of the mattress. His head sunk into the pillow beside her. If she rolled over she could move into the warmth of those strong arms he’d placed around her earlier. His hands could splay across her back, holding her safe. That beautiful mouth on her skin. Tonguing her into a frenzy.
She rolled sideways, her hand reaching across the gap to touch—cold, harsh reality. That side of the bed was empty. Chilly. No warm, male body. No Grady.
Grady was not real to her any more. Really? He was hardly an overactive figment of her imagination. Those hands that had held her shoulders earlier had been warm and strong and real. That mouth that had smiled and grinned and grimaced and kissed her had been real.
Her eyes filled, the tears burst over her eyelids, flooded her face, her pillow, her dreams. ‘Real or not, I can’t give you my heart again, Grady.’
Grady finally went back into his box.
*
Every muscle in Sasha’s body complained of fatigue, as it had all day long. If she didn’t get some decent, deep sleep tonight she’d be toast tomorrow. If this was what a couple of less-than-perfect nights did to her then once Flipper arrived she’d be hopeless. Until now she’d never had trouble sleeping.
‘That’s because I always exhausted myself physically throughout the day. Can’t do that at the moment. And if I turn up at work overtired too often, Mike and Rory are going start asking questions about my ability to do the job.’ Fear bounced down her spine. This job was very important. Without it she’d have to leave the bay and head to Nelson. Away from her mother at a time she needed to be here. That made her feel cold just thinking about it. ‘So I have to sleep a full eight hours tonight. No argument.’
Rubbing her aching back, she reached for her medical bag and headed up the mud-and rock-strewn driveway to Campbell McRae’s bungalow. Behind the outbuildings the high peaks of the Wakamarama Range sent chilly shadows over the surrounding paddocks, keeping the ground damp and cold. Hopefully, at this time of the year trampers weren’t walking the Heaphy Track. Too easy to slip over on the muddy track and suffer serious injuries.
The bungalow’s front door swung open as she stepped carefully onto the uneven veranda. Bracing for her next call, she smiled. ‘Hi, Sadie.’
‘Hello, Sasha. Campbell’s in a right old snot today.’ The middle-aged, squat woman scowled. ‘He thinks we should all be at his beck and call.’
Sasha wiped her shoes on the not-so-clean doormat. ‘What’s bothering him?’
‘Just about everything you care to think of.’ Sadie had the fortitude of a saint. Her brother’s situation made him very bad-tempered, which was completely understandable, but not nice.
‘Have you been changing the dressings like I showed you?’ Campbell’s leg had been amputated above the knee four weeks ago due to complications with his diabetes.
‘When he lets me near him.’ Sadie slammed the door shut. ‘He’s in the lounge.’
Sasha headed down the narrow, dark hallway, trying hard not to trip over any of the myriad objects lying on the floor. ‘Afternoon, Campbell.’ She’d learned right from her first visit not to say good afternoon as Campbell would instantly dispute the good component.
‘You’re late. I’ve been waiting for ages.’ The forty-four-year-old grizzled from where he sat by the grubby window, his crutches lying nearby. ‘You parked in the wrong place. I’ve told you about that before. One day that goat’s going to run its horns down the side of that fancy wagon of yours and then you’ll come complaining to me.’
She’d forgotten about the goat. Blame her jaded brain on a certain man back in Takaka. He’d been following her around in her head all day. ‘How’s that leg been? Are you doing those lifting exercises I showed you?’
‘A fat lot of good they do. It’s not like I’m going to be out running around after the stock, is it?’
In other words, no. Sasha explained what she’d explained often. ‘You need to keep those thigh muscles moving. You want them strong for when you’re fitted with your prosthetic leg.’
Campbell had the grace to look a tiny bit sorry. ‘I know you’re right, but I don’t see the point. Wearing a tin leg won’t make it any easier to get around the farm. I can drive the tractor but how do I get on it in the first place? Huh?’
She recognised the self-pity for what it was, and didn’t blame him. Who would be happy in his situation? A lot of self-doubt as well as fear went on in an amputee’s mind until they accepted their new way of life. Leaning down to remove the dressing from his stump, she asked, ‘Have you thought about buying a four-wheeled farm bike? More manoeuvrable and lower to the ground than a tractor.’
‘Do you know how much those things cost? I’m no millionaire.’
‘You might be able to find a second-hand one. Go on line and see what’s around.’ Did he have a computer?
‘Go on line? That’s the modern answer to everything.’
‘Yes, it is, and it’s not going to change any time soon.’ Sasha smiled at him, refusing to let his mood affect her. Carefully touching the wound with glove-covered fingers, she was pleased to see last week’s redness and puffiness had gone. ‘This is healing nicely. That infection’s improved.’
Grunt. ‘Jessica stood over me until I swallowed those bullets she calls pills. She’s bossier than you.’
Good for you, Jess. Her friend had covered her rounds while she’d been in Christchurch. Sasha cleane
d the stump and placed a new dressing over it. ‘Okay, Campbell, show me those exercises. I want to see you do them twice before I go.’
Campbell looked away. ‘I’m too sore.’
Sasha crossed to a chair, removed the magazines and knitting to sit down. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
Her patient glared at her. ‘Anyone ever tell you you’re stubborn?’
‘All my patients.’ She continued smiling, but she was worried. Campbell appeared more belligerent than usual. ‘Is something other than your leg bothering you, Campbell?’
His mouth tightened as he stared out the window. ‘I’ve lived here since I was a nipper. Don’t know any other way of life.’
‘It’s the same for Sadie.’
‘Yeah, but she can leave any time she likes. Nothing to keep her here.’
A man’s man now reduced to hobbling around on crutches. Eventually he’d be able to walk again but he’d never be chasing up the hills and through the valleys with his working dogs the way he used to.
‘I’d say Sadie has the same reasons for staying as you. Family, history, the comfort of knowing this place and the land.’ Those things had brought her back home when the going had got tough. Was she saying the right things? Should she shut up and go back to the medical centre, get Mike to arrange an appointment for Campbell with a counsellor that he’d never keep?
‘You reckon?’ His belligerence backed off a little. Then he shifted his butt and, gripping the armrest, lifted his thigh off the chair. Put it down. Lifted it again. His face contorted with the effort. ‘Weak as a kitten,’ he said, self-disgust clear in his voice.
Sasha stood up and crossed over to him. ‘What’s that wrapper you’ve stuffed under your backside?’
Campbell’s thigh dropped to the chair and stayed there. ‘Chocolate.’
‘I’ll check your glucose level before I go.’ She wanted to shake him, tell him he was putting his life in jeopardy, but he knew that better than her. He was already dealing with the consequences of not watching his diet carefully, of having allowed his diabetes go uncontrolled because he’d refused to accept it existed.
Shock rippled down her spine. Was that what she was doing with Grady? Not accepting that they were different now? That they had matured and learned a lot about living? She certainly hadn’t forgiven him. Was she meant to? Might help if she did. Might wipe out some of the hurt and anger that had resurfaced in the past two days. Might stop the need for him that crawled through her body, warmed her blood and started an ache in her sex whenever he was near.
‘It’s twelve point one.’
‘What?’
‘My glucose,’ Campbell grumbled.
‘Let’s double-check that.’ She wouldn’t put it past Campbell to have grabbed any figure out of the air.
*
Two house calls and one hundred and fifty kilometres later Sasha sped into the parking area behind the medical centre and leapt out of her vehicle.
‘Please, Flipper, please, please, kick me. Hard as you like. Bruise my ribs. I don’t care. I need to know you’re okay.’ Please.
She skidded on the mat at the back door, righted herself and raced down the hall towards the nurses’ room. ‘Jess, where are you?’ She spilled into the room and ran slap bang into Grady.
Strong hands gripped her shoulders, held her upright. ‘Hey, slow down. What’s up?’
‘Where’s Jess?’ She wriggled out of his hold and peered behind him, looking for her midwife. ‘Jess, I can’t feel Flipper moving. She hasn’t kicked for hours. Is she all right? Tell me I’m being silly, that she’s fine. Jess?’
‘Anything out of the ordinary happen today?’ Jessica stood up from the desk and came straight to her, reached for her hand at the same moment Grady caught her shoulders again, this time from behind.
‘I—I picked up J-Josh T-Templeton for a cuddle and my back t-tweaked.’ Why had she bent down to lift the overweight toddler? Because he’s so cute and he was holding his arms up, begging for a hug. ‘Have I hurt my b-baby?’ She’d never lift another child, another thing, until after her baby girl was born. She’d sit in a chair and read a book twenty-four seven. Promise. Just be okay, baby.
Jess squeezed her hand. ‘Deep breaths, Sasha. How long exactly since you last felt her move?’
‘I don’t want to breathe. I want to feel my baby moving.’
‘Sasha, how long?’ Grady echoed Jess’s question. Those strong fingers on her shoulders began making soothing circular movements.
She didn’t want to be soothed. She wanted Flipper kicking as though her life depended on it. She’d take all the pounding she could get to know her baby was safe, and only taking a longer than usual rest. ‘Jess, Grady, do something.’
Her knees buckled under her. Grady caught her, held her tight, backed her against his chest. She tried to soak up his strength but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t answer the overriding question. Was her baby all right? Was she alive?
‘Easy, Sasha. I’ll examine you immediately but there’s probably nothing to worry about.’ His tone was soothing but that didn’t help either.
Grady was going to examine her? Not in a million years. That would be too weird.
This isn’t about you. Or Grady. Your baby’s life is all that matters. Who examines you is irrelevant as long as they know what they’re doing.
Jessica glared at Grady. ‘You’re overriding my position?’
Sasha pulled out of Grady’s arms, her hands holding her belly. Waiting for a movement, imagining one and knowing she was wrong. Wanting didn’t mean getting. She looked from Jess to Grady.
‘We’ll examine Sasha.’
Something in his eyes must’ve made Jess feel okay with that because she backed off immediately and gave Sasha a loving smile. ‘Let me help you up on the bed.’
But before she could dredge up any kind of answer Grady had taken her arm to lead her across the room. She wanted to relax in against Grady’s body and feel safe. But she couldn’t. Not when Flipper needed all her focus. Flipper. ‘Oh, no.’ A chill sliced through her, lifted bumps on her skin. ‘Last night I told Flipper to stop swimming and go to sleep. This is my fault,’ she wailed. Where had that primal sound come from? Had she made it? Her bottom lip trembled so badly she had to bite down hard.
‘No, Sasha, this is not your fault. Babies do this. Chances are your little girl is absolutely fine.’ He spoke evenly, quietly. Professionally. He was being a doctor, no more, no less.
That calmed her somewhat, helped her take that breath Jess wanted, got her brain working so she could answer the question she hadn’t got to yet. ‘I’m not sure of the last time I felt her move. I think I might’ve while I was with Campbell McRae.’ Her lip trembled again. ‘But I can’t be a hundred per cent sure.’
‘Was that your last call?’ Grady’s hand under her elbow gave her balance as she climbed onto the bed, feeling more than ever like a heavily pregnant hippopotamus.
‘I did two more, and then had to drive back from Paton’s Rock,’ she answered.
‘So a couple of hours all up.’ Jess stood on the other side of the bed. ‘The usual thing to do now is make you lie down for one or two hours and relax—’
‘Relax?’ she shrieked. ‘When I haven’t felt anything from my baby all that time? I don’t think so.’
Jess’s calm smile didn’t help a bit. ‘Let me finish. You’ve been racing around all day, visiting patients, right?’
Sasha pursed her lips and glared at her friend. ‘So?’
‘So when you’re busy you won’t always notice baby’s movements as much as when you’re taking it easy. Lie back, Sasha, place your hands on your tummy and wait quietly.’
‘Since when have I ever done quietly?’ she grumbled, but lay back on the pillows.
‘Since you left that loser and came home,’ Jessica told her.
My own fault for asking. Jess had never hidden the truth, at least not about greaseball whom she’d never met but had an opinion about anyway. ‘T
hanks, pal.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Jess gave her a big smile. ‘Now, relax, will you?’
Beside her Grady lifted her wrist, pressed his fingers onto her radial artery. She watched his lips moving as he counted her pulse. His eyes had become inscrutable. Because of that loser comment? This was probably as strange a situation for Grady as it was for her. But if she could handle it then so could he. Only the baby mattered. Not his bruised ego or hers. Despite last night’s conversation about the past they were trying to be friends, and this was a good way to start. Don’t think about the kiss.
‘Pulse is normal.’ He laid her wrist down as though it was made of the finest crystal.
‘Why did you even take it? I wouldn’t have thought it necessary.’
‘Gives me something to do.’ He gave a deprecating smile. ‘Jessica’s got everything covered.’
‘What about listening in? Flipper might have something to say.’
‘Why not? Can’t do any harm.’ Friendliness had taken over his gaze.
But when Sasha tugged her top up, exposing her rounded belly for all to see, it was Grady’s bobbing Adam’s apple that caught her attention. So he was having massive trouble with the situation. She shouldn’t have suggested he do this bit. Should’ve asked Jess.
She turned in entreaty to Jess. Her friend nodded once in understanding and shoved the earpieces in her ears before placing the cold bell on her abdomen.
Sasha crossed her fingers and held her breath, and bit down on that quivering lip again. Please, please, please, please…
She watched Jess closely, looking for any change in her eyes or mouth, her expression. She knew Jess well, had learned to read her over the months as their friendship had deepened. But she saw nothing. Panic roared up her throat. She bit down hard to block off a cry. Her hands turned into fists and she thumped the bed at her sides.
‘Shh.’ Grady’s hand covered one of hers. ‘You’re making it hard for Jessica to hear anything.’