Within minutes industry ensued as Emily directed and he could see where her daughter had inherited her organisational skills from.
A doting Rodney carried buttered scones across to his lady and Marco lifted down the heavy box of decorations that overflowed with a family history he could only imagine. Even at a glance he could tell some of them were very old.
‘Thanks.’ Emily peered in. ‘That’s the hardest part—getting that box down from the top of the cupboard.’
She lifted a handful of paper chains from the box, some of them falling apart, and set them on the table ready to hang or repair.
‘Annie and I make these every year with the greeting cards from her birthday we saved from the year. So there’s lots of them. It’s a family tradition. We usually put them up a week before someone’s birthday so that they can really soak in the lead-up.’
‘A birthday that lasts for a week?’ Marco had very few memories of any celebrations for his birthday.
Emily looked a little embarrassed. ‘It was really for Annie and Gran more than me. Some of these are from when Annie was only a toddler and just started to play with paper. See, that strip has part of her fourth birthday card on it.’
Marco shook his head and tried to imagine a home that stayed still long enough to hoard such things.
Rodney carried the ladder inside and they discussed their plan of attack.
Emily grinned at him. ‘You’ll be sorry you came. By the time you’ve finished blowing up the balloons—and they’re big ones that Annie loves—you’ll be exhausted. I’ve been dreading that job.’
Marco’s first sight of the balloons confirmed the reason she’d dreaded the thought.
‘They’re huge.’ Rodney was wide eyed.
Emily shook her head sadly. ‘I know. I had a pump but it broke and I’ve never got around to buying a new one.’
She frowned at the bag of hand-sized balloons. ‘I should insist on the little ones, these ones kill me.’ She looked up. ‘But Annie loves these.’
‘Maybe we could just do a couple?’ Rodney was looking dubiously at the balloon in his hand.
‘Not this year,’ Marco said with finality and a sideways look at Emily. ‘In these matters a woman’s wish is law. Perhaps if we do them one at a time, we will survive.’
They achieved the impossible, twelve enormous balloons, and all stood around admiringly at the colourful clump on the floor.
‘Rodney looks sick.’ Annie squinted worriedly at her beau.
‘It’s just a little headache,’ Rodney said gallantly, and Marco patted his shoulder.
‘Just.’ Emily smiled at Marco and Rodney was given a kiss by Annie. ‘We could not have done that without your big lungs. Thank you, both.’
Rodney blushed and Marco whispered in an aside, ‘That is why we do what they want. Worth it?’ Rodney nodded carefully.
‘So, Annie, if you tell Rodney where to hang the chains, Marco and I will sort the balloons. We’ll have it all finished by lunch.’
Much hilarity ensued as every time Rodney stretched the chains the loop broke and they had to strengthen the strips until Marco demanded a stapler and they began to staple the links together.
‘Some are older than others and fragile.’ Annie defended their chain and Marco shook his head. ‘Next birthday perhaps you could start with the stapler and then hang them.’ He glanced across and Emily was watching him.
Her face was quietly thoughtful. He saw her acknowledge that he would not be here for the next birthday. Or the one after that, because he had no continuity like these women and their years of family traditions epitomised by this handmade diary of life.
Suddenly he needed fresh air and a cold breeze on his face to snap him out of melancholy. He pulled his phone from his pocket. Pretended to glance at it. ‘Excuse me. I need to make a call.’
He left her standing in the middle of the room and Emily watched him go. She couldn’t help but wonder about his childhood. What had formed the man who froze at the idea of permanence? She crossed to the kitchen and looked out the window. He wasn’t on the phone. He was staring at the empty bird feeder and the silhouette of his face made her ache for the loneliness she saw in his usually smiling face.
She turned, picked up the seeds for the birds, and followed him out. ‘The lorikeet isn’t here today.’
‘I should not have come.’
‘Why? Because you don’t think you’re welcome?’
‘Because I cannot have a healthy future with any woman.’ He turned to face her squarely. Lifted his head. ‘I cannot be the man you deserve, Emily.’
Emerrrlee. Yes, it would have been nice. More than nice to have a normal, evolving relationship with Marco. One with a future and stability and new excitement every day. But in reality life wasn’t like that, she of all people knew that, and from this last hour she’d discovered she was still glad she’d connected with Marco D’Arvello and really believed she always would be.
She wished she knew what had him running so scared from forming relationships. ‘We don’t have to be intensely involved in each other, Marco. The last couple of days were just a mirage for both of us.
‘But if you want a family to join for the next couple of weeks before you head off on your next high-powered assignment, please join mine.’
She spread her hands. ‘We’d love to have you. Anyone who blows up my balloons is welcome at my door any time.’
He smiled but the humour was missing. ‘I worry that it will be difficult for you when I leave.’
Maybe it would be difficult for him too? She shrugged. ‘My problem, not yours. I’m single, free to have what friends I choose, and I think regret for time we could have spent together could be worse than being safe with no friendship at all.’
She touched his arm. ‘But it’s up to you.’
* * *
That night at work Emily couldn’t help thinking about the day. How it hadn’t been as awkward as she’d expected it would be. How Marco had been unobtrusively supportive of Rodney and Annie, and circumspect with her. Maybe too circumspect, according to Annie’s view of her mother’s love life.
But the idea of just getting to know Marco without actually touching him could be a good idea, could help her see that a globetrotting, super-specialist was not in the realms of reality for her life. The problem was she really did like the caring man she could see beneath the handsome exterior.
Today she’d been glad he’d come back inside. Stayed another hour and helped. Had steadied her while she’d climbed the ladder and precariously placed the last balloon on the lightshade so that everyone clapped when it was done.
The phone rang and she blinked her way back to on-duty. ‘Maternity, Emily.’
‘Emergency Department. We’re sending up a thirty-four-weeker in prem labour. Helen Roberts. She’s a booked Caesarean for foetal abnormality and we have the team coming in for that if you can get her ready. We’re up to our ears down here.’
She knew Helen from the antenatal clinic. ‘No problem. Thanks.’ Emily put the phone down and scooted over to the cupboard with all the pre-admission notes for the women booked to have their babies with Sydney Harbour Hospital.
She pulled Helen’s notes and flipped them open on her way back to the desk. ‘Prem labour coming in.’ Helen would be stressing.
‘Must be the month for it.’ Lily reappeared from her ward round with a torch.
‘Helen was a booked Caesarean for next month. Baby has an oomphaceal picked up on late ultrasound. I’ll grab the IV stuff and theatre clothes if you set up the catheter trolley.’
‘Who’s going to Theatre with them?’ Lily was an experienced plastic surgery nurse and Emily was the more experienced with Caesareans.
‘I’ll go this time because I know her, and you hold the ward.’
Lily nodded as they hurried together to the sterile storeroom and loaded their trolleys.
Lily was frowning. ‘That’s a weakness in the skin around the navel, isn’t it?’
‘Yep. So part of the baby’s intestines and sometimes organs are not zipped inside.’ Emily grabbed an IV pole with one hand and pushed the trolley with the other. ‘The good thing about oomphaceals are the tummy contents are protected by the same membrane that covers the cord. So they’re usually safe and can be replaced over time as the skin grows and makes room until it can be replaced inside the abdomen. Or they can have surgery earlier.’
‘Imagine the mum.’ Lily shook her head. ‘It must be hard to be told your baby has something like that. You’d want to see your baby’s face in your mind but you’d have to be thinking about his tummy.’
Emily glanced at Lily as they hurried down to an empty room, set up their work areas and turned down the bed. ‘That’s very true. Helen’s amazing, though. I do wonder if sometimes the imagination is much worse than the actual reality.’ She grinned. ‘You and Luke not getting clucky, are you?’
‘Us?’ Lily shook her head but she did blush. Emily let it go with a smile. Lily changed the subject. ‘I’ll bet this mum will be looking forward to seeing her baby. Then she can stop imagining so much.’
They heard the lift doors open and Lily went out to direct them down the hall. Emily leaned over, stuck the name badge to the wall and shifted the bed across so the trolley could come in easily.
She was surprised to see Marco accompany the trolley but he’d said he was on call tonight. Apparently he’d offered to do call for the rest of the week so there’d be no more Limoncello for him when he got home from work.
CHAPTER TEN
HE SMILED at her and it was crazy, but just for that split second she felt the room light up and her heart swell. Then it was gone. She greeted her patient as she arrived at the door.
‘Hello, there, Helen. Your baby decided to do this in a rush?’
‘Hi, Emily. It started all of a sudden.’ Helen looked pale and anxious and Emily touched her hand in sympathy.
She gestured to Helen’s belly. ‘Maybe she decided it was time she called the shots? Where’s Ned?’
Helen grimaced. ‘Minding the kids. We couldn’t get anyone at such short notice.’
Emily nodded. ‘I’ll stay with you until he can get here.’ She glanced up at Marco. ‘It will take us about ten minutes to get Helen ready. Then I’ll come down with her.’
Marco leaned down and smiled at Helen. ‘I’ll see you in Theatre.’ He patted her shoulder and sent one last look Emily’s way before he was gone.
Emily glanced at the porter who’d helped Marco push the trolley. ‘So you’ll come back here for us as soon as you drop the baby resuscitation trolley in Theatre?’
‘Okeydoke.’ The man smiled at their patient. ‘See you in a minute.’
The next seven minutes saw Helen admitted, changed into a gown and hat, and an IV cannula inserted for the fluids she’d need before the epidural anaesthetic.
Emily and Lily worked steadily and Helen breathed quietly through the contractions as they finished each task.
‘One thing to go,’ Emily said. ‘I know we’ve been attacking you from both sides, but now I have to pop a catheter into your bladder before the surgery. When they reach the uterus, if the bladder isn’t completely empty and flat, there’s a small risk it could be damaged.’
Helen nodded. ‘The sooner it’s done, the sooner we go. I read the book you gave me on Caesareans, so I’ve got a bit of an idea what’s happening.’
Emily ticked off the last of the list. ‘Lovely. But just ask if you need to.’
Within minutes everything was done. The orderly came back, Emily handed over the keys for the ward to Lily, and they were on their way.
After the epidural was inserted in the anaesthetic bay they pushed Helen through into Theatre and the first person Emily saw inside was Marco—but that may have been because he towered over the others.
He had his head back and was chuckling at something he’d said to the attractive theatre sister. The sight sent an unfamiliar ache through her chest and she glanced back at her patient. ‘You okay there?’
When she looked up Marco was by their side and he introduced the man who’d followed their trolley in.
Marco gestured. ‘This is our head of paediatrics, Teo Kauri, Helen. Teo’s standing by for the arrival of your daughter and he’s brought Dr Luke Williams, our plastic surgeon, and a bevy of neonatal nurse specialists so your baby will be in very good hands.’
Helen nodded, a little tearfully, and Marco squeezed her shoulder. Emily thought briefly of Lily back on the ward. Luke and Lily were such a perfect couple, and Luke was introducing himself to Helen with that special smile that Lily raved about.
She was in very good hands, Emily thought to herself, and couldn’t help the tiny prayer she sent for her own little granddaughter, who had already benefited from these amazing people. After transfer to the operating table Emily held Helen’s hand as the next twenty minutes crept by. Marco gently incised his way down to the uterus, a little more slowly than usual because of the fragile oomphaceal, but still Emily wished it was over. No doubt Helen was a hundred times more impatient than she was.
Emily heard the sound of the suction as the amniotic fluid surrounding baby gushed out, to be captured and removed by the suction tubing. So they’d reached the amniotic sac.
‘Not long now.’ She squeezed Helen’s fingers and watched the neonatal specialists prepare to receive her baby.
The oomphaceal, a greyish-looking balloon on the front of the baby’s tummy, wasn’t quite as big as Emily had imagined but still it was shocking in weirdness.
Helen’s eyes were darting as her imagination tried to make sense of the quiet conversations that were going on. Then Marco’s voice. ‘Your baby is breathing well and—’ He was interrupted by a lusty wail as Helen’s baby decided she didn’t like being handled by these people.
Everyone laughed with relief and Emily blinked away her own tears. She didn’t have a hope of not being affected by the moment. Distantly she heard Marco murmur quietly, ‘This is good.’
‘Our baby is okay?’ Helen was craning her neck. ‘Charlotte. We’re calling her Charlotte. Charlotte is okay?’ Her voice quivered and then the team pushed the neonatal trolley closer and Emily moved out of the way so Mum could reach out and touch her daughter’s hand. From the angle she was lying Helen could see the big unfocussed eyes of her daughter as she blinked at the bright lights. The tiny hand closed over her mother’s finger and held on tightly.
These were the moments Marco savoured. The naming of a baby. The beginning of a life. Despite the bizarreness of the protruding balloon of organs, this baby would be okay. The mother’s fears would be allayed over the coming days, and all would be well.
He saw Emily wipe her eyes and then scoot around the edge of the crowd and snap photos for Helen, and he had to smile at her concentration. But, then, to look at Emily was to smile—and he would do better to put his head down and get on with his work.
But this was a moment he’d always doubted he would ever share with a woman. Many times he had been the outsider but this time he felt closer to the baby than usual. Perhaps it was the fact he had shared the moment with Emily.
Helen’s baby was whisked off to the neonatal intensive care unit and Emily and Helen left Theatre an hour later via the NICU. Helen’s husband, Ned, arrived just in time to accompany them, and Helen burst into tears with relief.
Teo came across as the trolley was wheeled in. ‘Hello, there, again.’
‘This is Ned, Charlotte’s dad.’ Emily introduced the anxious father and Teo shook his hand. Then he bent closer to Helen. ‘Congratulations, you two.’ He grinned. ‘Except for her decision to wear her tummy on the outside, Charlotte looks great.’
They all smiled at that and Helen almost sagged into the bed with relief. Teo went on. ‘Because she’s four weeks early as well as the tests she needed to undergo, she’ll be there for at least a week or two—maybe a little longer if anything crops up. But from our early examinations and tests Char
lotte looks good.’
Such a relief. Emily felt her shoulders loosen and she sighed as she smiled. Ned reached down and kissed his wife and Emily turned away to give them some privacy. Such a different birth to experience but so fortunate the team had everything well under control.
‘This is good!’ Marco had appeared beside her and she looked up at him. This time she didn’t care about the tears in her eyes as she shared her joy.
‘It’s great news.’ She turned to Helen’s husband. ‘Ned, this is Dr D’Arvello. He’s the obstetrician who operated on your wife.’
The two men shook hands. ‘Thank you, Doctor.’
‘My pleasure. It is very rewarding when there is such a good outcome as there is with Charlotte.’ He glanced at Emily. Suddenly the impact of not being a part of any family slammed into him. Was he happy with that? Not having what this man in front of him had? What even Emily had with Annie. For ever?
‘I will leave you in the very capable hands of the sister and see you later on the ward,’ he said, and walked away.
* * *
The night passed swiftly after that. Marco came back briefly to check to see his patient was settled and comfortable and to impart the information that despite Charlotte’s IV running well she was sucking happily on her fist.
Emily glanced at the clock and wondered again at how he managed with such a full schedule. She’d just happened to look for his next theatre list and saw it commenced in six hours. She left him to his conversation and went back to the desk to clear up the paperwork involved with the birth and there was a mountain of forms to keep her mind occupied.
She didn’t hear him approach and Marco took a moment to just soak her in. Her cap of hair was across her face, her shoulders bent over her work, and he could see the curve of her neck that continued to entrance him. His obsession was becoming troublesome.
She brushed back her hair and held it away with her hand and he could see the frown across her forehead. ‘You look worried. Anything I can help with?’
Sydney Harbor Hospital: Marco's Temptation Page 9