by Leah Martyn
‘So, why New York, Dan?’ His head jerked up as if she’d activated a string and she added quickly, ‘Am I being too nosy?’
‘No...’ He pulled off a blade of grass and began shredding it with his fingers. ‘I’d been there a couple of times on holidays, loved the buzz. When the chance came to work there, I grabbed it. The rest, as they say, is history. What about you?’ He changed conversational lanes deftly. ‘Travelled much?’
‘Quite a bit.’ Lindsey smiled up at him. ‘The UK, of course, seeing that James and Catherine live in Scotland. That was brilliant. We did some of Europe together. And last year I went to Japan for the snowboarding.’
‘You’re a snowboarder?’ There was admiration in Dan’s voice.
‘Did you travel with a group?’
She shook her head. ‘It probably would have been better if I had. I went with my boyfriend at the time.’ She pulled her knees up to her chin and looked out into the distance. ‘The day after we arrived he hooked up with one of the tour guides.’
‘Ouch.’
Lindsey rolled her eyes in disdain. ‘He described her as cute and said it was just a holiday fling. That it needn’t change anything between us. The awful part was that it was all going on under my nose. How dumb was I?’
‘I wouldn’t call it dumb,’ Dan said quietly. ‘You trusted him and he let you down.’ He brushed his fingers down her cheek. ‘His loss, I think.’ A long beat of silence until, ‘I got married in New York.’
Married. The word fell like the thud of a stone into a deep pool. Lindsey’s stomach began turning cartwheels. If he’d been going for shock value, he’d got it. She hesitated before asking, ‘Are you still—?’
‘No.’ The word was snapped out. And then more or less on a sigh, ‘We crashed and burned.’
Lindsey raised her gaze to look at him. That sounded awful. But he couldn’t drop a major detail like that into the conversation and expect her to leave it there without comment. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
Dan eased his back against the trunk of the tree, unaware his eyes had assumed a bleak look. He clamped his jaw and agonised over whether now was the time to tell Lindsey everything, but his gut did a somersault at the thought of resurrecting it all. He rubbed a hand across his cheekbones, feeling the familiar tightening in his throat, but he realised that if there was any chance of deepening his relationship with Lindsey, he had to plough on. ‘Caroline and I met at a party. She was from out of state, an attorney, new to the city as I was. We began dating, doing stuff together...’
‘OK. Fast forward all that. Obviously, you fell in love and got married.’
Dan averted his eyes quickly but not before she saw the pain in them.
She held out her hand to him. ‘Sorry...that was glib.’
He took the hand she offered, pressing her fingers tightly as if to gain strength from the contact, then let it go. ‘I imagine you’ve heard of the expression about your life turning on a dime?’
‘Is—is that what happened to yours?’
‘More or less.’ There was silence as if he was searching for the words and then he began to talk very quietly and measuredly. ‘When we met, we were both in crummy apartments so it seemed reasonable to move into something better and share the rent.’
‘As a couple?’
‘Well, it didn’t start out like that and it wasn’t something we’d planned.’
Lindsey frowned a bit. That didn’t sound like the love affair of the century so why had they got married? Unless...?
‘Caroline got pregnant.’ His voice flattened. ‘Down to a glitch in her contraception. She was panic-stricken. Her parents were...protective, ultra-conservative in their outlook, so totally proud of their only child when she’d got a place at one of the city’s prestigious law firms, convinced she’d make partner in a few years. She was fearful of telling them about the pregnancy, distressed she’d let them down in some way. She said if she could tell them we were getting married, it would lessen the shock.’
Lindsey could hear the thudding of her own heart. She paused and frowned. ‘And you married her?’
Dan registered her look of disbelief. ‘It was my child too, Lindsey,’ he justified. ‘And I thought...well, if we put our best into the relationship, we could make it work. Then life began throwing us curveballs. We found out Caroline was carrying twins and that was scary enough but then we discovered they were mono-mono.’
Lindsey’s breathing faltered. She interpreted what he was saying, that the babies had shared the same amniotic sac and the same placenta within the mother’s uterus. ‘That’s extremely rare, isn’t it?’
‘Only in one per cent of pregnancies.’ Dan looked out into the distance. ‘The survival rate is not great. Cord entanglement can happen at any moment.’
Which meant the babies’ oxygen could be cut off. Lindsey tapped into her medical knowledge, fearing what Dan was about to tell her. ‘Do you want to stop now?’
He gave the ghost of a smile. ‘What would be the point? You need to know and, God knows, I need to start gaining some perspective about it all.’
‘OK...but I imagine, as a doctor, you knew the scenario you were facing and obviously you tried to shield Caroline about the extent of your fears.’
He dipped his head. How did she know that’s exactly how it had been? ‘I tried to keep positive for Caroline’s sake but it was like living with a time bomb. At sixteen weeks the scan showed they were girls. Their heartbeats were strong and they appeared to be growing well. Caroline was being monitored by an ob team, of course, and they had protocols in place for the babies to be delivered by C-section at the earliest viable date. We dared to hope...’ He stopped, his jaw working. ‘They died in utero at twenty-two weeks.’
Lindsey heard the pain in his voice and tears welled in her eyes but she said nothing, just sat with her arms locked around her middle and waited until he carried on.
‘We had amazing support from the hospital and my family flew over. And Nathan.’ His throat moved convulsively as he swallowed. ‘Seeing Nate was hard. Brought it home the reason we were all there. I’d kept it together until then... But I was so damn glad to see him.’
Lindsey felt drenched in emotion, breathing harder as if a thumb pressed on her throat. ‘Dan...I’m so very sorry this happened to you.’ She looked at him, blinking away the scattering of tears. ‘How on earth did you move forward from such heartache?’
‘In a fog mostly.’ He made an attempt at a twisted smile. ‘I’m certainly in no hurry to experience fatherhood again. In the end, you do what has to be done. Caroline didn’t want to be around me.’ He shrugged. ‘She was hurting.’
‘And you weren’t?’ she queried softly.
‘Caroline maintained there was nothing holding us together any longer. She quit her job and went home to her parents. I completed my contract at the hospital and then went to Florida. Did some training with a search and rescue team. After that, I came back home to Australia.’
‘And you’re not in touch with Caroline at all?’
‘I tried a few months after I’d got home. She said she’d moved on and she hoped I’d do the same.’ He paused. ‘It’s been two years now.’
Lindsey let the revelation hang for a moment. ‘I imagine it’s been pretty hard—trying to let it go, I mean.’
‘I’m slowly getting there.’ He gave a hard laugh. ‘Except when it’s a significant memory—like on the day I lost it in Resus.’
‘I wondered...’ She bit her lip. ‘You said you were having an off day. But it wasn’t the day, was it?’ she stated with some perception. ‘It was the date.’
‘Yes, it was,’ he said, his voice hollow. ‘It was the date I met my babies. And the day I said goodbye to them.’
* * *
For a long time they stayed sitting under the tree. D
an had his arm around her, her head buried against him. Finally, he said, ‘Thanks, Lindsey—for listening.’
‘I hope it helped a bit,’ she said, her voice scrappy.
His arm tightened and he pulled her closer.
And he figured only time would tell whether that was true and whether he could start taking more steps forward than backwards from now on.
‘Hey.’ He gave her a little shake. ‘Want to race me home?’
* * *
She pulled back. ‘I don’t know about that.’ Raising her arms, she lifted her hair and let it tumble down. ‘One of us would probably break our ankle.’
‘If it was you, I’d be on hand to patch you up,’ he declared manfully.
‘Then you’d have to carry me.’
Dan looked unfazed. ‘You look like you don’t weigh much. I think I could manage to hoist you over my shoulder in a fireman’s lift.’
Her mouth turned down. ‘I’m too tall for that. I’d be all dangly.’
He gave a deep-throated laugh. ‘Dangly you would never be. A gentle jog, then,’ he suggested, unwinding upright and taking her with him. ‘Let’s go.’
* * *
When they got home, Lindsey declared, ‘You must be starving. What about a club sandwich?’
‘Sounds good.’ Dan got lemon squash from the fridge and poured them both a tall glass.
Lindsey began setting out the ingredients for their sandwiches. ‘Perhaps, later, we could go into Milldale. The country markets are on all day on Sunday.’
‘Again, that sounds good. But don’t think you have to entertain me, Lindsey.’
She sent him a look of dismay. ‘Is that how it seems?’
‘Of course not. It’s been the most brilliant day I’ve had in the longest time. And just being with you...’ He shook his head, still poleaxed by the complete wonder of it all.
‘Oh, Dan.’ She sent him a misty kind of smile. ‘Me too.’
* * *
‘I think I’ll change,’ Lindsey said as they finished their impromptu lunch. ‘The weather’s warmed up.’
‘So it has.’ Dan hauled off his jumper. He sent her a quick smile. ‘Don’t be long.’
In her bedroom, she divested herself of her cardigan and T-shirt and stepped out of her jeans. She had managed to hang up a couple of dresses yesterday and she pulled one off its hanger. It was dotted with tiny flowers.
Longish and floaty. I feel like spring, she thought happily.
It was only a ten-minute drive to the village.
‘You know, I haven’t been to one of these for years,’ Dan said as they roamed the market stalls, picking up and putting down various items.
‘You should get out more, Dante.’
‘Cheeky.’ He sent her a lazy grin. ‘So, are we looking for anything specific?’
‘We are.’ Lindsey urged him towards a stall decorated with flags from many nations. ‘I like to support this group. They donate to several primary schools in one of the developing countries. Oh, recycled paper!’ She pounced on the pale green and speckled box. ‘It’s Mum’s birthday soon, she’s a compulsive letter writer. And I must get some of this herbal mixture that helps to heal bruises.’
Dan looked bemused. ‘Are you expecting some—bruises, I mean?’
‘I work in Casualty, Dan,’ she reminded him drily.
‘I’m learning so much here,’ he said.
Not sure whether he was being serious or not, Lindsey sent him an eye-roll. ‘I just need to get some of the fair-trade tea and coffee and I’m done here.’
‘I’d like some of that too.’ Dan stayed her hand as she was reaching for her purse. ‘I’ll get this.’ He handed over a note of a large denomination, waving away the change.
‘That was a nice gesture.’ Lindsey swung her carry bag lightly as they strolled on.
‘Hardly philanthropic,’ he mocked himself. ‘But perhaps it might go towards funding some story books for the kids or a bit of sports equipment.’
‘Happy thought,’ Lindsey said. ‘But the hard reality is it might help to pay for someone to keep the kids safe on the way to and from school.’
His mouth tightened at the bleak thought. ‘We take so much for granted, don’t we?’
‘Not always,’ Lindsey countered gently. ‘I like to think most of us do what we can for others less fortunate. But for some folk it could never be enough.’
Dan looked at her with something like awe. ‘You’re such a wise woman.’
‘So better not mess with me, then.’
He returned her grin. ‘I think we need some ice cream.’
‘Now let’s have a wander through the art gallery,’ Lindsey suggested, as they finished off their ice-cream cones. ‘Check out the work of the local artisans.’
‘Are you among them?’ Dan asked.
‘I’ve had a few pieces shown from time to time but nothing lately. I need inspiration.’ She paused, her bottom lip puckering, considering. ‘Would you sit for me, Dan?’
‘No.’
They entered the gallery with its clean lines of black and white space and a striking mullioned window through which the afternoon sun was streaming.
‘Just—no?’ Lindsey stopped to look at a painting.
‘I’m not that narcissistic, Lindsey.’
‘That’s pathetic reasoning.’ She shook her head.
They continued their tour of the gallery and Dan held the door open for her as they left. ‘I’d only need you for a couple of hours just to get the basics down,’ Lindsey pleaded her case.
‘It’s not something I’d do. Count me as a firm no!’ He softened his abruptness with a smile that spread his lips wide and Lindsey found she was biting down on hers. He looked so sexy, unshaven, a bit rumpled. So...perfect for her.
‘Spoilsport,’ she muttered, and stepped out into the street again.
Dan wound her fingers through his as they continued up the street. ‘I saw a plant nursery when I took a walk yesterday. Would they still be open?’
‘Probably. Sunday trading is the go in the village. Lots of tourists about. What do you need a nursery for?’
He squeezed her hand and swung it gently. ‘Need to get some flowers for my lady.’
A few minutes later, Lindsey looked at the flowers she held. Dan had given her long-stemmed irises, their colour a rich and gorgeous violet, deepening to amethyst. ‘Let’s make tracks now,’ he said, as they left the shop.
‘Thanks for these, Dan,’ Lindsey said when they were back and seated in his car. ‘But why irises? Any special reason?’
He thought for a moment. ‘Because they’re extremely special and lovely...like you.’ His fingers went to her nape and stroked. ‘And brave-looking somehow, with their tall, straight stems.’
She turned to him, her heart beating so heavily she could feel it inside her chest. ‘Today’s been so amazing, hasn’t it?’ she said softly.
‘Oh, yes...’ His mouth lowered to her throat, his lips on the tiny pulse point that beat frantically beneath her chin. He looked at her, an unfulfilled yearning, as sudden as a lightning strike catapulting into his veins. ‘I think we need to take this home, don’t you?’ His voice caught as he swallowed.
She nodded. No further words were needed.
* * *
Dan kissed her again before they got out of the car. Then, gathering up their parcels, they went inside. Somehow they found themselves back in the kitchen.
‘We seem to end up here, don’t we?’ Lindsey gave a strained laugh, reaching up for a jug and putting her flowers in water.
‘I like kitchens,’ Dan said. ‘They’re friendly places.’
‘The hub of the home.’ Lindsey felt her nerves jangle, achingly aware of the almost tangible expectation hanging in the
air between them. She turned to him, crossing her arms against her chest. ‘Tea, then? Glass of wine, anything?’
A beat of silence.
‘Dan...?’
He was very close. Unlocking her arms, he slid his hands down to her wrists, holding them gently. They waited there a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. He took her wrist and raised it to his mouth. ‘We haven’t had our dance yet. Do you have some music?’
‘I do—heaps of music.’ Lindsey felt caught in a bubble. The world had faded and there was just the two of them. She could already feel the surge of heat between them. She swallowed drily.
They went through to the lounge. Lindsey slid a disc into the player and music, slow and smooth, filled the room. She looked up expectantly and saw that Dan had gone to the picture window and was looking out. She crossed to his side and saw what he did. Spears of red and orange shot across the western sky. ‘Day’s almost done.’
‘We still have the night...’ His voice was husky on the words as he turned and took her in his arms. Lindsey raised her face for his kiss, her whole body seeming to melt when their lips met. His hands stroked her back, encircled her hips, burning through the soft fabric of her dress as if his fingers were on fire.
Entwined, swaying together, almost lost in the throb of the music, they danced. And danced, wheeling and whirling around the room and all the way down the hallway to his bedroom.
They went in and Dan closed the door behind them. The curtains were partially drawn, the bed turned down. Dan pressed her to his side. ‘When did you do this?’
‘A bit earlier.’
‘For us?’
The softest smile edged her mouth. ‘Do you mind?’
He shook his head and paused. ‘Ah, Lindsey...’
‘What is it?’
‘There’s no chocolate on the pillow.’
‘Silly.’ She smiled mistily. ‘That’s for later.’