He lowered his mouth to the vicinity of her ear. ‘Are we going to talk or just ignore each other?’ he asked.
Maggie opened her eyes and turned to face him. He was disturbingly close, his mouth within easy reach. The gum was having a marvellous effect on her constitution but with all the extraneous noise she really wasn’t up to a discussion they’d have to yell at each other anyway.
‘Ignore each other,’ she confirmed, returning her head to its neutral position and closing her eyes.
Nash smiled despite himself. Okay. She was right. It was hardly the time or place. But they were going to talk about this. Today.
They landed in Rockhampton and took the two-minute taxi ride to the hospital. The pick-up was easy enough. Everything had been done for them. Thanks to the quick actions of a local anaesthetist who’d diagnosed the surgical emergency and performed a tracheostomy, the child just needed transport to a primary care facility where it could be managed further. They were at the Rocky General for half an hour in total.
It was seven a.m. when they pushed through the swing doors of the PICU. Another hour before the patient was settled, notes were written, equipment packed away and they were ready to leave.
‘Come on,’ Nash said, catching her as she was about to get into her car. ‘I’ll buy you breakfast.’
Maggie sighed. ‘Nash, no. I’m really tired.’ She didn’t want to rehash what they’d already been through.
He could see that but he wanted this sorted. Now. ‘Yes,’ he insisted.
‘I can’t eat anything these days.’
Nash shrugged. ‘So I’ll eat and you can watch.’ He fished in the pocket of his Levi’s. ‘I have more gum.’
Maggie was about to say no, get in her car and drive off but then he looked at her with those eyes and said, ‘Please, Maggie,’ and she folded like a deck of cards.
‘Fine,’ she huffed.
She followed him to a nearby cafÉ precinct and sipped on water while he tucked into a full English breakfast. Maggie watched him eating with gusto. Plenty of those where he was going.
The thought of him leaving, of him being on the other side of the world eating authentic English breakfasts while she was here, with his child, loving him, was depressing as hell.
Nash placed his knife and fork on his empty plate and wiped his mouth on a napkin. His full stomach gave him fortitude to face the conversation they needed to have.
‘So, Maggie. Where do we go from here?’ he asked. ‘Have you given any more thought to coming to London with me?’
Had she? She’d thought of little else. And had she been ten years younger and a baby wasn’t involved she’d have jumped at it. Thrown caution to the wind and taken the biggest gamble of her life, hoping he would come to love her while accepting that he never might. But this wasn’t just about her any more. She had the baby to think about.
‘I’m not going to live in London, Nash. I’m sorry, that’s just not an option.’ She wasn’t doing that for anything less than love.
Nash nodded slowly. It had been a long shot—she’d been so adamant the other day. He sighed heavily. ‘I understand.’
‘We’re just going to have to compromise. I know you feel it’s your duty to support the baby, right?’ Maggie held her breath, waiting for him to deny it. To hear him refute that it was a duty. To hear him say it was an act of love.
‘I’m the father,’ he said testily. ‘Of course it’s my duty to support the baby. And you, Maggie.’
Maggie felt another crack splinter the surface of her heart. ‘Well, then, we’ll work it out. Maybe for those first couple of years, while you’re overseas, you can contribute financially. As far as the baby’s concerned, they’re probably the best years to be away. It won’t be aware of you as a father figure until it’s much older.’
Nash rubbed his chin, the rough stubble pricking his palm. ‘I could try and be here for the birth.’
Maggie swallowed. Now, that would be hard. How was she supposed to keep emotional distance from him during something as intimate as giving birth to his child?
‘I could probably come back every few months.’
Maggie could see he was thinking hard about the possibilities and was relieved. She picked up her train of thought. ‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘And these days there’s so many ways that we can keep in touch.’
‘You could visit me. Maybe. It wouldn’t be much of a picnic, dragging a baby halfway round the world, but I’d pay for you to come first class. I know you’re not keen to come to London…’
Maggie was touched by his thoughtfulness and that he was really trying to meet her halfway. Vintage Nash. She was fully aware he could have turned nasty. But she guessed that was the difference between duty and love. It was easy to be removed when deep feelings weren’t involved.
‘I could probably do a holiday,’ she replied. ‘Depends on the baby, I guess. If he’s—’
‘He?’ Nash interrupted.
Maggie blushed and placed her hand across her belly. ‘Oh, sorry. I just…have a feeling.’
A son. Maggie could be carrying his son. Nash’s gaze flicked to her hand splayed against her tummy. ‘Will you find out?’
She nodded. ‘Yeah, I think I might.’
He wouldn’t be here for that. Or to see her belly grow round. And he may well miss the birth. What other things would he miss out on? First words. First steps.
‘I can send you the pictures from the ultrasound if you like. And I’ll send photos and video footage. You’ll probably see more of him than a lot of men do of their kids who live under the same roof.’
Nash considered it. Maybe she was right. It was only for the first couple of years. When he returned they could work out a better arrangement. Maybe she’d come back home with him. She might be willing to do that when he was back in the same country. There’d be nothing to stop her. Unless…A sudden thought sent a chill straight up his spine and needling into the base of his skull.
‘What if you meet someone else, Maggie?’ How would he handle another man being a father to his child? Another man sharing her bed?
Maggie’s hand tightened against her stomach and she forced out a laugh. ‘That won’t happen.’
He frowned. ‘How can you be so sure?’
Because I love you, idiot! Because he’d ruined her for all men. ‘There’s no room left in here.’ She tapped her chest. ‘It’s full up with love for this little guy. Nothing’s more important than this.’ She patted her stomach. ‘No one’s ever going to take my focus off him. No one.’
Maggie wished she could wring the same commitment from Nash. The thought of all those English girls falling for his country-boy charm had her hovering between deeply depressed and violently jealous. But that had been one of the perils of getting involved with a much younger man. And she’d known it. Nash was young and unattached—he was supposed to be out there, playing the field.
Nash blinked at the conviction in her voice. He believed her. Still, it sounded like a lonely life for her. And for a second he worried that Maggie was shutting herself off from life’s possibilities. But then, perversely, as a naked flame of jealousy scorched his veins, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to ever have to think about another man touching her like he had. To share what they’d shared.
It was selfish. But he didn’t care.
The waitress brought the bill and Nash paid it.
‘So? What do you think?’ Maggie asked as she stood. ‘Do you think we’ve come to a reasonable compromise?’
Nash helped her out with her chair as he mulled over her question. The truth was it didn’t sit well with him. It still felt like he was shirking his responsibilities. He doubted his parents would be impressed. But, as she’d said, it was a compromise. He could hardly drag her to London when she didn’t want to go.
He had no doubt there was legal recourse but he knew if he forced her to do something she didn’t want to do, it could do irreparable damage to their relationship. And she was the mother of his
child. It was in both their interests and particularly in the interest of his unborn son—oh, God he was doing it now—to keep things amicable.
Hell. How had their fun, easy relationship become so complicated?
‘It sounds like a start,’ he said.
They walked in silence the short distance to their cars. Maggie turned as she reached for her door handle. ‘Should we shake on it?’ She held out her hand.
Nash looked at it, then up into her face. She was looking at him with her big brown eyes and he wanted nothing more than to go back to her place and hold her while they fell asleep.
He lifted a hand, stroking her fringe back and tracing her cheekbone until he was cupping her jaw. ‘I think we’ve passed that, don’t you?’
His voice was soft and his gaze was on her mouth and she couldn’t have stopped her eyes fluttering shut or the sway of her body towards his had her life depended on it. It had been days since he’d kissed her and she yearned for it.
Nash lowered his head and dropped a soft kiss against her pliant lips. Her sigh encouraged him to linger a little longer and he deepened the kiss. But when she moaned he knew they were treading on dangerous ground. She was tired and he knew this wasn’t the kind of intimacy she’d allow if she had her wits about her. Not any more.
‘Go home, get some sleep,’ he whispered against her lips, dragging his mouth away and planting a soft kiss on her forehead before turning away and heading to his car.
Maggie watched him open his door, get in, start it up and drive away, all the time her heart breaking. How was she ever going to watch him walk away for good?
‘What are you wearing to the ball?’ Linda asked a few days later as she came round at the start of the late shift to check on how each of her staff members were getting on with their patients. Maggie had been allocated Toby again. She’d developed a real rapport with his parents and a definite soft spot for the little battler.
‘Oh, cripes!’ Maggie slapped herself on the forehead. ‘I’ve forgotten all about it.’ To be fair to herself, she did have quite a bit on her mind and the tickets had been purchased in August.
‘I bought myself this swanky little number with a corset-style bodice. Phil’s gonna drool all night when he sees it.’
Maggie laughed at her friend. The Christmas Eve ball was not only the highlight of the hospital calendar but the highlight of Linda and Phil’s calendar too. Linda’s parents took the kids to Carols by Candlelight on the Brisbane River while Linda and Phil lived it up for one night of the year. Of course, they felt like hell at six a.m. when six children landed on their bed demanding to open their presents from Santa.
‘I guess I’ll need to go shopping for something.’
‘Da.’ Linda bugged her eyes at Maggie. ‘Only seventeen more sleeps.’
Maggie laughed again. ‘You’re incorrigible.’
‘Are you counting down sleeps to Christmas or shopping days remaining?’ Nash enquired as he stopped by Maggie’s bedside to deliver Toby’s latest blood-gas results.
Linda shook her head. ‘Neither. Sleeps until the ball,’ she informed Nash. ‘Although it does help that the kids’ Christmas countdown happens to coincide. You are coming, I hope?’
Maggie threw a quick prayer into the ether. Nash in chinos and Levi’s was hard enough to ignore. Nash in a tux? Now, that would be a magnificent sight indeed.
‘Well I bought my ticket in August but I’ve got a morning shift Christmas Day so I’m not sure if it’s wise.’
Maggie held her breath. Maybe he wouldn’t come?
‘Oh, you poor old man,’ Linda teased. ‘Can’t party all night and work the next day any more?’
Nash grinned, responding to Linda’s well-intentioned banter but conscious of Maggie growing stiller and stiller beside him. ‘Well, I am thirty now.’
‘Oh, right. Hey, Maggie’s going and she’s working the next day. She’s got a whole decade on you.’
Maggie winced. She caught Nash’s furtive look at her and wished the floor would open and swallow her. She didn’t need Linda’s reminder of just how idiotic she’d been to think she could play with fire and not get burned.
‘I’ve got to face six children after about two hours’ sleep,’ Linda continued, oblivious to the currents churning around her. ‘And then cook for twenty-six people coming to my house for Christmas dinner. So don’t give me any of your paltry excuses.’
Nash felt horrified, just listening to Linda’s Christmas line-up. ‘Well, in that case…’
‘Good. You can sit at our table,’ Linda said patting him on the shoulder. ‘Unless you’re bringing a partner?’
Maggie swallowed. Oh, God, he wouldn’t, would he?
Nash caught Maggie’s sudden pallor. ‘Nope,’ he hastened to assure Linda. ‘Just me.’
Maggie breathed again. She couldn’t have sat at the same table with him while some…female fawned over him.
‘It’s settled, then.’
‘Are you sure?’ Nash asked, flicking a brief glance at Maggie, pleased to see some colour had returned to her cheeks, before returning his attention to Linda. ‘I don’t want to kick anyone off.’
‘Of course, we haven’t worked out final seating anyway.’
He chanced another glance at Maggie. Her face was neutral. Hard to read. Did she want him there? Moreover could he sit near her, dressed to the nines without wanting to touch her?
Probably not. ‘Thank you. I’d be honoured.’
Maggie was relieved when Nash’s pager beeped and he excused himself. Standing next to him, pretending nothing had happened between them, was weird. Standing next to him, knowing she was carrying his child, was plain bizarre.
‘Hmm-mmm,’ Linda murmured. ‘Now there’s some eye candy that’s gonna look smokin’ in a tux.’
Maggie shook her head at her friend’s blatant ogling. It felt strange to witness another woman’s admiration given how intimately she knew Nash. She even felt a streak of white-hot jealousy stab her in the chest. ‘Hey. What about Phil?’ she protested.
Linda shook her head. ‘I love Phil to death and think he’s the most gorgeous man alive. But just cos I’m married, Maggie, it doesn’t mean I’m dead. I can appreciate a fine-looking specimen of manhood as much as the next woman. And that man has it in spades.’ Linda shook her head. ‘They’re gonna adore him over there. He’s going to break him some English hearts.’
Maggie swallowed. She knew it was the truth. But it hurt. God, how it hurt.
Maggie spent the entire shift trying to get Toby to smile. He looked at her solemnly, his ET tube protruding from his nose like a trunk, his arms wrapped in splints so he couldn’t pull it or any of his lines out. He’d been shifted from the high-frequency ventilation back to conventional, which had been a huge step forward. His kidneys were winning the battle and he was having a trial period off the dialysis machine to see if his urine output kept up both in quantity and quality.
Maggie hoped so. Toby had been through a lot in the last weeks and really deserved a lucky break. Nevertheless, she’d gathered all the lines and paraphernalia she’d need for the artificial kidney should he have to go back on overnight.
But, still, he looked miserable. He cried any time anyone went near him. A mournful silent wail, his blue eyes filling with tears, his little face screwed up in abject misery. Not that Maggie could blame him. He’d been put through the wringer. Tubes and tests and suctioning and X-rays. Taking one step forward only to slide two steps back.
Even his mother was persona non grata with the little boy. Maggie looked up a few hours into the shift and saw her crying. She rounded the bed, put her arm around Alice’s shoulders and gave them a quick squeeze.
‘He looks at me like I’m the enemy,’ she murmured.
‘No,’ Maggie denied gently as the little boy eyed her like she was going to murder him. ‘He reserves that look for the nurses.’
‘Well, he looks at me with this look that just says why? Why are you letting them do it to me?’
‘I know,’ Maggie murmured. ‘He’s young and he can’t possibly understand. He’s been through a lot, Alice. He’s been very sick but he’s clawing his way back. His humour will improve as he starts to feel better.’
Alice wiped her eyes. ‘I know,’ she said reaching out and squeezing Toby’s hand. ‘Thanks, Maggie. You have no idea how much we appreciate the support you guys give us. You’re angels, all of you.’
Maggie had never been comfortable with how people equated nurses with angels. Yes, she loved her job and she liked to think she went above and beyond. But she was human with human failings. At no time was that more evident than right now as the ever-present nausea twisted through her gut.
Alice popped out a couple of hours later and Maggie sat with Toby as he cried great silent sobs and looked behind him, searching for his mother. She read to him for a bit and then tried to interest him a game of peek-a-boo.
‘Oh, dear, Toby’s not a happy camper.’
Maggie looked up as Nash approached the other side of Toby’s bed. ‘No. He’s not.
Nash reached for a glove. ‘I think Toby needs a pet fish,’ he said. He scrunched the opening together like the neck of a balloon and blew into it. The glove, including the five fingers, inflated, looking like an udder.
Toby stopped crying and watched the process warily. Nash tied the end where he’d blown into and then inverted it. He took his pen out of his pocket and drew in some scales and two eyes. It now looked like some bizarre mutant fish with a pointy nose and giant spines. But at least it looked like a fish.
‘Ta-da,’ Nash announced. He watched the mistrust on Toby’s face. ‘Tough crowd,’ he remarked to Maggie.
Maggie smiled. She was touched that Nash, in that special way of his, was trying and had at least halted Toby’s heart-wrenching sobs. ‘I think your fish is lonely,’ she said, looking away from Nash towards Toby. ‘I think he needs a friend.’And she reached for a glove.
‘Aha.’ Nash nodded. ‘A girlfriend.’
Her Baby Out of the Blue/A Doctor, A Nurse: A Christmas Baby Page 26