‘No sign of any rash developing.’
‘Thank God for that,’ Dylan murmured. Watching Sophie having to undergo a lumbar puncture to exclude meningitis would be unbearable.
‘No vomiting or diarrhoea today?’
‘No.’
‘I’m going to have a look in her ears,’ Liz told them. ‘Can one of you hold her, please?’
Dylan looked at Jane. Jane looked back and they held the eye contact for a heartbeat.
‘I’ll do it,’ Jane said.
She wrapped Sophie in a light cotton blanket and then cradled her against her chest, one hand over the back of her head to hold her still as Liz put the earpiece of the otoscope carefully into place and then peered in to view the eardrums on each side.
Sophie hated it. She wriggled and howled and Dylan saw Jane biting her lip and blinking as though she was close to tears herself. But finally the examination was over.
‘Definitely otitis media,’ Liz announced. ‘Nasty red drums in there. I’m happy enough that the infection is responsible for both the high temperature and the seizure.’
Jane was still holding Sophie. Rocking her gently by twisting her own body from side to side. Sophie was hiccuping and snuffling but the loud cries were fading.
‘You don’t think a full blood count is necessary?’
‘Not when there’s an obvious infection going on.’
‘What about an MRI or EEG?’
Liz shook her head, smiling at Jane. ‘You’re thinking like a parent, not a doctor. We’ll keep a close eye on her for a few hours but I’m confident it was a febrile event. She’s looking happier already, with the antiinflammatory kicking in, don’t you think?’
Jane looked down. Sophie’s eyes were half-closed and one tiny fist was gripping a finger of her hand. She had stopped crying. There was a kind of wonder in Jane’s eyes as she looked up at Dylan. This time he could find a smile, no problem.
‘We’ll start antibiotics,’ Liz said. ‘And I’m going to drag you off to the staffroom and find some coffee for you, Jane, as soon as I get a break. I’m dying to hear all about how this baby has come into your life.’
‘So Liz was a paediatric surgeon? Like you?’
‘Yes. A very good one. She took up an amazing position in a children’s hospital in Washington, DC, and met her husband over there. They had their first baby three years ago and another one last year and decided they wanted to come back to New Zealand to raise their family.’
‘Why is she working in the emergency department?’
‘The hours suit her and she preferred it to going into general practice. Her husband also works a little less than a full week and they have a nanny to fill in the gaps.’
Dylan looked up from where he was giving Sophie her bottle of formula. From the cubicle they’d been moved to for observation, it was possible to see a large portion of a department that was surprisingly busy for a Sunday afternoon.
‘It’s a good place to work, Emergency,’ he said thoughtfully.
‘You want a job here?’ Jane moved her head to look at Dylan more closely but she didn’t move her hand. She was sitting on the chair beside Dylan and Sophie was gripping her finger. Squeezing it at frequent intervals that coincided with a renewed sucking effort. She was making up for a hungry morning.
‘No.’ Dylan’s tone was decided. ‘I’d much prefer the cottage hospital in Akaroa, with a bit of everything from minor surgery to obstetrics. You’d never get bored with that and it has the added bonus of a small staff. You’d get to know everybody so well.’
Jane let go of the hope that Dylan might want to work and therefore live in the city, which might make planning their future a little less complicated.
‘No,’ he said again. ‘I was thinking you might like to.’
‘Me?’ Jane’s jaw dropped. ‘I don’t think so.’
Dylan didn’t meet her gaze. ‘Just an idea,’ he said mildly. ‘Liz obviously enjoys it and part-time work would give you more time with…with Sophie.’
Why the hesitation? Jane wondered. Had he been going to say ‘with us’? No. The whole reason for her to be with Dylan was Sophie, wasn’t it?
It was time to change the subject. Before she relayed the information that Liz wasn’t that happy with her current employment. And that during her conversation with Jane she had come up with the extraordinary idea that they could share a single surgical position and both be doing the job they loved with enough time to be with their children as well.
Jane had dismissed the notion with vague references to how difficult it would be to persuade management to accept such an unusual arrangement. She’d also said she had no plans to sabotage her career to such a degree, but she hadn’t told Liz everything. She hadn’t mentioned the proposed marriage or how she felt about her daughter’s uncle, and that probably had far more to do with her negative reaction than the challenge of making the idea a possibility.
Downsizing her job would be an astonishing sacrifice and, if she made it, she would be committing that much more of her heart and soul to this strange little family she’d been given. To a man who wasn’t prepared to consider living in the city for her sake.
He didn’t feel the same way she did. This was all for Sophie’s sake and Jane had to remember that because otherwise she might start hoping for something she couldn’t have. She’d end up as she had been as a child. Trying to please. Desperate for a sign that she was loved for herself. Getting hurt, time after time.
Giving away half her career was the adult equivalent of that trying to please. To win love. Jane wasn’t going to allow herself to do that. Not for Dylan. Not even for Sophie.
She was already making major changes to her life for them. She had agreed to marry Dylan, for heaven’s sake, to give him the security of knowing he could stay in the place he wanted Sophie to be raised. By doing so, she was sacrificing any chance of finding a man who would fall in love with her the way she had with…
Dylan.
The name was a silent sigh, wrenched from her heart.
A surrender.
There wouldn’t be another man, in any case, because Dylan was so different. Unique.
Amazing.
Jane had to make an effort to distract herself before she did something embarrassing, like starting to cry. She had to focus on the most important person involved in all this. Not herself. Not Dylan. Certainly not herself and Dylan.
‘She’s looking so much better since her temperature started dropping.’
‘Aye. And she’s nearly finished this whole bottle.’Dylan smiled down at the baby. ‘Oink, oink, you wee piglet!’
The suction on the teat broke with a small ping and sizzling sound. The corners of Sophie’s mouth lifted. And kept lifting. She lay there, grinning up at Dylan with a dribble of milk escaping to run down her chin.
Jane lifted Sophie’s bib to catch the dribble but she couldn’t catch that misty sensation that enveloped her. She recognised it now. She may not have chosen to bring this baby into existence or given birth to her herself, but it felt like she had. She loved this child as much as if she had made those choices.
‘Will you stay in town tonight?’
‘I don’t think we need to. Liz said she’d come and do a final check soon but her temperature was almost normal last time and she said if it stays down we can go home.’
‘What if she has another seizure? There’s a higher chance of a baby who’s had one febrile event to have another one.’
‘Only if the temperature gets high enough, which it won’t if I keep up with her medication doses.’
‘She’ll need watching.’
‘I know that.’ Dylan’s tone was very patient and Jane bit her lip.
‘Sorry. I know you know. And I trust your care of Sophie completely. You’re doing an amazing job of looking after her.’
He glanced up and caught her gaze. ‘It’s nice to know you trust me, hinny.’
The odd endearment and more—that smile—brought back
that misty feeling and intensified it to the point that Jane’s brain went completely foggy.
She was smiling back, lost in the fog, until his next words brought her back to the present.
‘I’ve got the hospital just up the road, too. And Jennifer, if I need any help.’
‘Mmm.’ Jane dropped her gaze to Sophie again. The most important person.
‘Everything’s back at the cottage,’ Dylan continued. ‘The bassinette and the bath and the formula and nappies. We didn’t bring much with us and it’s a bit late to try hitting the baby shops.’
‘Mmm.’ Everything Dylan was saying made perfect sense. Far more sense than the strength of her reluctance to see them go. This kind of separation was something she’d have to get used to if they were going to make this marriage of convenience work.
She could feel Dylan still watching her. Did he think she wanted him to take himself and the baby away to make it easier for her to slip back into her usual routine?
She should want that. Last week she had wanted that, but it was different now. Sophie was sick. She needed…her mother?
It was too big a leap. She wasn’t ready for this. For any of it.
Liz came back into the cubicle and spent a few minutes checking Sophie.
‘You’re a little poppet, aren’t you?’ The doctor smiled at Jane and then Dylan. ‘She’s gorgeous. And she’s bounced back fast enough for me to be quite happy to let you go home. Her temperature’s virtually normal and she’s feeding well. Keep up the antiinflammatory and the antibiotics till the course is finished. Not that I need to tell either of you that. I’m confident you won’t have any further problems. Are you both happy with that?’
‘Aye,’ Dylan said. ‘Thank you very much.’
‘Yes,’ Jane added. ‘Thanks, Liz. You’ve been great.’
As they walked out of the department, Jane had to admit to herself that she hadn’t been telling the truth. In a very short space of time she would be watching Dylan and Sophie drive away and walking back to her apartment by herself.
And she wasn’t happy with that.
Not at all.
He kissed her, which only made it harder.
Sophie was settled in her car seat. Facing backwards but strapped into the front passenger seat so that Dylan could see and talk to her on the journey.
The driver’s door was open. Dylan was ready to get in and drive away but he stopped beside Jane.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you home?’
‘I’m sure. It’s only a short walk and I could do with the fresh air. Drive carefully.’
‘I will.’
‘Ring me when you get back to the cottage.’
‘Aye. I’ll do that too.’
He put his finger under Jane’s chin to tilt her head gently upwards. Then he bent and covered her lips with his own. A lingering, soft kiss that took her straight back to the night they’d spent together. Only last night but it felt like forever ago.
Dylan broke the kiss but pulled Jane into his arms and held her. Briefly. Firmly enough for her face to be pressed against his shoulder.
‘We’ll miss you,’ he said simply.
Jane drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of him. Imprinting the feel of his warmth and strength into every cell of her body. So that she could remember it on the nights ahead when she would be alone in her bed. As if she could have forgotten!
Her words were muffled. It was quite possible that Dylan didn’t hear them.
‘I’ll miss you, too.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
SHE missed everything.
The smell of the sea and the clutter of the cottage. The sound of the birds and Dylan’s guitar and Sophie’s gurgles. The sight of Dylan’s smile. Sophie’s smile.
She’d be having her bath now, Jane would think while she waited for her frozen microwave meal to heat. Grinning and kicking her legs and making conversation with those interested coos.
Dylan might be listening to music in front of the fire, she would think later, trying unsuccessfully to make sense of the article in the journal she held. Or making music. Putting a classical CD on didn’t help a bit. It only made the longing worse. It was just as well she had no Cat Stevens in the apartment or she might be a basket case by now.
They would both be asleep, she would decide in the early hours of yet another night. As she should be herself but it was hard, because missing it all was a physical ache that wouldn’t go away.
Work should have helped. As busy and rewarding as ever, with an endless supply of new patients and the pleasure of ticking off a successful outcome for recent ones. Like little Harry, who was discharged with a clean bill of health a week after his appendectomy. And tiny Liam, who was now feeding well and gaining weight. Why did every baby remind her of Sophie? And every father of Dylan?
Thoughts of them were always there, a low background hum, the way that first kiss of Dylan’s had lingered. It went up several notches when the Christmas decorations went up around the hospital. When the excited gleam came into the eyes of the children and every parent expressed the wish that their sick little ones would be home well before the actual day.
Jane had every sympathy with the parents. Christmas was a time for families to be together. Dylan and Sophie were her family now. She had to tell herself that the ache of missing them would become familiar. She’d get used to it. There would always be a weekend to look forward to so the ache would diminish.
Except it didn’t.
Sometimes it went away for a while. During a particularly intense session in Theatre, for example. Or during the often lengthy conversations she had by phone with Dylan every evening.
‘Sophie’s fine,’ he told her late in that first week. ‘Last dose of antibiotics today and I took her up to the clinic and got Jennifer to check her ears.’
‘She’s happy, then?’
‘Who? Sophie or Jennifer?’ Dylan laughed and the sound made Jane smile. She leaned back in her chair, the phone pressed hard against her ear, and closed her eyes for a moment to savour the sound.
‘Sophie’s very happy,’ Dylan continued. ‘And so’s Jennifer. I’ve agreed to do an afternoon shift for her. Just one or two a week. Wednesdays and Fridays to begin with. First one tomorrow, actually. From 3 p.m. to 11 p.m.’
‘Who’s going to look after Sophie?’ The delight of hearing Dylan laugh morphed into something much less pleasant. Alarm? No. More like jealousy.
‘Ruby,’ Dylan said reassuringly. ‘Hospital cook and a lovely woman. Mind, she almost came to blows with Marg while they argued about who was going to have the privilege.’ There was a tiny silence, as though Dylan became aware of the vibes from Jane’s end. ‘Are you OK with that, Jane?’
‘I’m fine with it,’ she said. And realised it was true. She wanted Dylan to be able to do whatever made him happy. Happy and settled and not wanting to go anywhere else. ‘Did you make that call to your father last night?’
‘Aye.’A new warmth entered his voice. ‘He’s thrilled to bits. Told me my mum had a book about New Zealand once and used to dream of living here one day. I told him I’d get a digital camera so I can email him pictures of the harbour and the boats.’ Dylan chuckled. ‘You know what he said?’
‘What?’
‘“Forget the boats, it’s the wee lassie I want tae see.”’
Jane laughed. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting him. Did you go and look at that house?’
‘Aye. It’s fine. Small but perfectly formed. I’m going to put an offer in on it tomorrow.’
‘That’s great.’ And it was. Another sign that Dylan was planning to make a permanent home here. With Sophie. With her. It was perfect. Almost.
‘You don’t want me to leave it until you can see it, too? You know more about houses around here than I do. We could look in the weekend.’
‘I’m on call this weekend, remember?’
‘Oh…That’s right.’
Was it her imagination or did he sound disap
pointed? And if he was disappointed, was it just because he wanted help in caring for Sophie? Or someone to share his bed?
Having to remember that Dylan probably wasn’t missing her in anything like the same way she was missing him suddenly made the ache unbearable.
‘It’s my job, Dylan. There’s nothing I can do about it.’
Her tone was sharper than she had intended, which probably explained the silence she got in response. Jane sighed.
‘Put an offer in if you’re happy,’ she said. ‘If you think your dad will be happy. As far as where it is for amenities and so on, I think you have a better feel for the place than I do. You live there now and I just visit.’
‘Aye.’ The word was heavy enough to be a punctuation mark.
A fitting end to the conversation.
Except that Jane didn’t want it to end.
‘I saw my solicitor again today. He says that he can start proceedings to ensure that we are both legally considered to be Sophie’s parents but—’
‘But? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. He just said that…um, it would make things less complicated if we were married before the paperwork is done, otherwise there’d be a bunch of amendments that would have to be approved.’
‘We’d better get married as soon as possible, then.’
Jane had to swallow the lump in her throat. How often would she have to deal with the reminder that Sophie was the reason this marriage was happening? The only reason.
‘I’ll look into what needs to be done. I guess you’d want just a registry office?’
‘No way!’ Dylan’s indignation was a surprise. ‘I want the real thing here, Jane. In a church, thank you.’
‘Yes.’ Jane swallowed again. ‘It should look real, shouldn’t it? I suppose I’d better do something about a dress.’
‘Aye. And I’ll get my dad to bring over my kilt.’
Jane didn’t need to swallow now because her mouth had gone curiously dry at the thought of Dylan wearing a kilt.
Different again.
Special.
‘I’ve never been married before,’ Dylan said softly into the silence. ‘And I don’t intend doing it again. I want this to be real.’
Her Baby Out of the Blue/A Doctor, A Nurse: A Christmas Baby Page 14