The only sombre moment in the conversation was when Tim asked after Macca and Mitch’s dad, Rick.
The two brothers exchanged sombre expressions and then Macca shrugged. ‘Who knows, really? He tries to put on a brave face when we’re around, but it kills me to see him locked up like that. He loves it when we take the kids to visit though, doesn’t he, love?’
Kate nodded as Macca reached out to squeeze her knee.
‘I just wish there was more we could do,’ Mitch mused. Charlie looked at him, wishing there was something she could do to ease his guilt and anxiety. She knew how much better she felt now that she was home and able to keep a closer eye on her own father. If only there was a care facility in Meadow Brook and Rick wasn’t all the way in Port Augusta.
Finally, Lisa’s kids started grizzling and she and Tim decided to make a move.
‘Do you want to head home now too?’ Mitch asked. As designated driver, he’d stopped drinking hours ago.
Charlie yawned, tiredness washing over her. ‘Yes, we’d better. I’ve got the usual early start in the morning.’
Everyone thanked Kate and Macca for their hospitality and all agreed they should do it more often, then Lisa and Tim bundled their small people into the wagon and Charlie climbed into Mitch’s ute beside him. She clicked her seatbelt into place, glancing at Mitch’s gorgeous profile as she did so. Totally dry now, he was wearing the board shorts he’d swum in and a scruffy old t-shirt—but even in the daggiest clothes he’d still look hotter than any other guy on the planet.
Charlie sucked in a breath, suddenly experiencing an intense urge to lean across and touch his face. Guessing the alcohol was affecting her senses, she closed her eyes and sank back in the seat, trying to forget that Mitch was sitting mere centimetres away. It was ridiculous—they’d been friends for years and had been working alongside each other sometimes hours on end for weeks—but she couldn’t deny it was getting stronger.
And she couldn’t forget Kate’s insinuations or Lisa’s comment about the way Mitch looked at her. Could they be right? Something deep inside her tightened at the thought. As far as she knew he hadn’t been seeing any other women since she’d landed back in town but it had only been a month and she’d kept him pretty occupied at the motel.
‘You okay?’ Mitch asked.
She blinked open her eyes, realised they were already halfway down the driveway and summoned a chirpy smile to her face. ‘Yep. I had a great night. Thanks for dragging me out.’
‘Anytime.’ Mitch grinned and then reached up to turn on the overhead light. ‘And I hope I’m about to make it even better.’
Charlie’s heart stopped at his words, tingles racing up her spine. Was this it? Was he going to pull the ute over to the side of the road and confess he felt exactly the same way she did?
‘Oh?’ She only just managed to speak, licking her lips in anticipation.
‘Check under your seat.’ His hands still sexily caressing the steering wheel, he nodded towards her feet.
Confused, she leant over, felt beneath her seat and drew out a thick, yellow envelope. ‘What’s this?’
‘Look inside.’
She slid her finger beneath the seal and then drew out the papers inside, frowning as she read over the first page. ‘It’s an application form. For an online course.’
‘Yep. In naturopathy.’
‘But I don’t understand.’
Mitch reached over and grabbed her hand—she tried not to react to his touch. ‘You’ve been doing amazing things in the motel, Charlie. I’m proud of you, and your dad’s proud of you, but you gave up a big dream to come home. This way you can study towards your degree and be around for Brian.’
‘I …’ Emotion clogged her throat at the thoughtfulness behind Mitch’s gesture. She didn’t know what to say. ‘Do you really think I can do this on top of everything else?’
‘Of course you can. Besides, I’ll help.’
Her insides lit up with excitement and possibility. In less than a month she’d already achieved so much at the motel, so maybe this wasn’t such a crazy idea. ‘Oh, Mitch. I could just kiss you,’ she said, hugging the paperwork to her chest.
His cheeks flared red and he scoffed, ‘Steady on, Charles. Don’t get carried away.’
The words were like a slap in the face—a bitter announcement of how he felt. He cared about her—he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to find out this course information if he didn’t—but as a mate, or like he would a sister. Just the mere idea of her kissing him had brought a horror-stricken look to his eyes.
That hurt, but she was the one to blame. Mitch had never given her any indication that he ever wanted more.
He might have grown from a skinny, nerdy boy into a strapping, gorgeous man—inside and out—but Charlie hadn’t changed. Why would he ever find her plain mousey looks and nothing body attractive?
‘It was a figure of speech,’ she said quickly, hoping she’d hidden her dismay. ‘Don’t get your knickers in a knot, I’d rather kiss a toad.’
‘That’s not very nice, Charlie-Warlie.’ But he didn’t sound offended. He’d recovered from her mention of kissing him and was now tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to the Australia Day countdown on the radio.
Charlie shoved the paperwork back in the envelope, then reached up and turned off the overhead light, making the ute dark again, just in case there was anything on her face that might give away her feelings.
‘I was thinking,’ Mitch said as he tore along the Eyre Highway towards Meadow Brook, ‘that maybe next special day we should have some sort of party at the motel instead.’
‘What type of special day?’ she asked, something twisting inside her at the way he said ‘we.’
‘St Patrick’s Day is the next big one, unless you count Valentine’s Day—but that’s only good for couples. We could decorate the bar and restaurant with green streamers and balloons, have a special green cocktail, green food and encourage everyone to drink Kilkenny and Guinness. What do you reckon?’
‘Green food?’ That didn’t sound appetising at all.
‘Hey, I thought you’d love the idea. Most veggies are green.’
She laughed because she couldn’t help herself. ‘Okay. We’ll talk about it,’ she promised as he turned into the motel car park.
‘We could even dress up!’
Charlie rolled her eyes, picturing Mitch in a leprechaun outfit. ‘Whatever.’
‘I’ve got a trip the next couple of days, but are you up for beers and pizza this Friday night?’ he asked as she reached for the door handle.
With her face turned away from him, she closed her eyes and took a moment. The way she saw it, she had two choices; either repress the feelings she had for Mitch and let things go on the way they were, or tell him how she felt and risk losing the best friend she’d ever had.
Fact was, option two wasn’t an option at all.
‘Yeah, that’d be great. I’ll see you then,’ she said and then climbed out of the ute.
Mitch waited until she was safely inside before driving off and Charlie stood in the doorway, watching until his lights faded to nothing.
Chapter Twenty-three
‘It’s a girl, a beautiful baby girl!’ Madeleine held up the tiny, perfect, albeit slightly red and wrinkly newborn to the first-time parents and then handed the bundle to Mike, the paediatrician on duty. He took the kid across the other side of the room to be assessed. While Mike and the midwives fussed round the baby and new parents, Madeleine tended to the task of stitching up her latest caesarean section. She prided herself on immaculate stitching and got a thrill out of seeing a good scar when her patients returned for their six-week check-up. By the time she’d finished, Mike had proclaimed the baby a healthy little cherub and placed it into its mother’s arms for the first time.
She couldn’t help gazing down at the new family.
Although she wasn’t an emotional person, this was the one time when tears sometimes caught in
the back of her throat. In those first few moments after birth when two people in love are meeting a brand new person that they created between them, everything seems like a miracle. Usually she managed to control her emotions by turning away and going to clean up, but today her eyes were glued on the sight as she fantasised that one day in the not too distant future she might have one of those moments of her own. It didn’t matter that she’d be on her own because she’d get all the joy.
And then she remembered the diabolical meeting she’d had a few days ago with Potential Donor Number Two. It had been so disappointing she hadn’t been able to bring herself to go back to the known donor site since. Yet, without a donor, her dreams of motherhood were futile.
‘Are you okay?’ Madeleine felt Mike’s hand on her arm and, as she looked into his face, she felt a tear trickle down her cheek. Embarrassed, she swiped her arm across her face to get rid of it.
‘Of course. Fine. I think I have something in my eye,’ she lied, bestowing her patients with a brief smile before turning away.
Her job done for this couple—the midwives would take care of mum and baby and deliver them to the ward—Madeleine left, quickly cleaned up, changed out of her scrubs and then returned to her office. This C-section had been her last patient for the day and although she still wanted to do a round of the maternity ward to check on her other new mums, she first had to pull herself together. This meant getting over the setbacks that had been Potential Donors One and Two and getting back in the saddle—so to speak. Closing her office door, she sat down at her computer and was just entering the website into Safari when there was a knock.
Frowning, she minimised the web browser and called, ‘Come in.’
The door opened and Hugo stood there, so tall he almost touched the top of the door frame and looking way sexier than a tired doctor at the end of his shift had any right to look. ‘Can we talk?’ he asked.
She nodded, a shiver running through her at his serious tone. ‘Sure.’
He entered the room and closed the door behind him. Although she’d been alone with Hugo more times than she could count, her heart hitched in her chest and she felt as if her office had shrunk around them like something out of Alice in Wonderland.
‘How are you?’ she asked, needing to fill the silence. She and Hugo saw each other at the hospital almost daily in a professional capacity but for some reason, they’d barely talked as friends since that night in the restaurant with Celia almost two weeks ago. She didn’t know whether she’d been subconsciously avoiding him or if he was avoiding her, but something had shifted between them and she wasn’t happy about it.
‘All right.’ He sat down in the chair on the other side of her desk, rather than leaning against it like he so often did when they were chatting at the end of a hard day. ‘I’ve been thinking about your predicament.’
‘Oh.’ Heat flooded her body and she reached for a pen, needing something to fiddle with.
‘How’d you go with Potential Donor Number Two?’
Madeleine frowned. She’d been updating Celia via text or email on the saga of her donor hunt. Had she not told him? Or was he simply pretending to be in the dark? Quite frankly, with the weirdness between them, Madeleine wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about such personal and confronting things.
But the look in Hugo’s eyes unnerved her and in lieu of anything else to say she confessed. ‘Dismally. I’m seriously considering resorting to the anonymous donor thing.’
It was Hugo’s turn to frown. ‘But you’re going ahead with having a baby on your own?’
‘Yes.’ If anything, the hassles of finding a donor had made her more and more convinced of her decision. With each disappointment, her yearning to have a child of her own grew stronger. The way she’d almost lost control of her emotions in theatre proved that she needed to see this decision through.
‘I’ll do it.’
‘What?’ She thought she must have misheard. Or perhaps the conversation had moved onto some other topic without her noticing.
Hugo leaned forward and planted his elbows on her desk, clasping his hands together in the way he always did when he was serious or focused on something. Her heart picked up speed as he opened his mouth.
‘I’m offering you my sperm, Madeleine. That is, if you find me, as a donor, suitable.’
Holy shit! Was he kidding? He checked all her boxes for suitability a hundred times over.
She couldn’t help the smile that burst on her face as she imagined what a baby made with their combined genes would look like. Would it have blonde hair like hers or the sophisticated copper of his? Until she’d met Hugo, she’d never imagined anyone with red hair could be sexy, but he defied this myth. They were both tall and sporty, so unless they shared some weird recessive genes, their child would have good body structure and excellent muscle tone. And they had high IQs—she imagined them sitting on the floor doing flashcards with their super bright baby.
The word ‘perfect’ popped into her head, until she remembered Hugo wouldn’t be sitting on the floor sharing parental duties. He wouldn’t be there for the good times or the bad. That wouldn’t be the arrangement. Her bubble deflating, a voice in her head said she should thank him for the very kind offer but decline. It was the sensible thing to do. After all, a close friend donor was never one of her options. And also, this hadn’t been Hugo’s idea originally.
If Celia hadn’t suggested it at dinner, he’d never have come to her on his own. Would he?
‘Are you sure?’ The question came out of her mouth of its own accord but it was a good one. If, and it was a big if, they did this, she wanted to make sure he wasn’t feeling pressured by Celia or herself.
He nodded. ‘I’ve barely thought about anything else the past few days. The idea of you going out and looking for a stranger to … to do this mammoth thing, just doesn’t sit right.’
‘But you don’t want children?’
He lifted one shoulder. ‘Celia doesn’t want children. I’m indifferent, but I love her.’
Madeleine tried to ignore the stab in her heart at his confession. Of course he loved Celia. She knew he loved Celia. Everyone loved Celia.
But then he added, ‘And you want a child and I love you too.’
A shot of adrenalin jolted her heart but somehow she managed to ignore it. He might love her, but not in the same way he loved Celia. Gripping the edge of her desk and thankful she’d been sitting down when he’d hit her with those potent little words, she forced a grateful smile, unable to speak yet.
‘And anyway,’ he continued, the hint of a smile creeping onto his face, ‘this wouldn’t be my baby, right? Biologically yes, but I’d be like an uncle, interested in the child but with no legal claims or responsibility. Would that work?’
‘Yes. I guess.’ She’d never given serious thought to the whole friend-as-donor thing but it might be nice to know her baby would have a male role model, especially if they conceived a boy.
‘I’ve already spoken to Celia’s lawyer friend and he says he can get a contract drawn up pretty quickly. Of course we’ll both have to have some medical tests, but …’ He leaned back in his seat, clearly relaxing now he’d said what he wanted to say. ‘What do you think? Do you want to do this?’
Madeleine closed her eyes a moment, thinking. The little voice telling her this was a bad idea was getting quieter and quieter. Hugo was offering her an amazing gift. If she accepted it, she could begin the next stage of this journey. No more scouring the internet for suitable donors, no more pseudo-dates in cafes with lunatics. It would be time to move on to tracking her temperature and peeing on ovulation sticks instead.
And, then came the biggie. If she used Hugo as her donor and did get pregnant, she’d always have a part of him, even if she’d never be able to have him. Maybe that would be enough?
‘Okay. If you’re sure,’ she said eventually, finally meeting his gaze.
His lips twisted into a fully fledged smile. ‘I am. I most definitely am. Ce
lia’s suggestion just caught me by surprise but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed the perfect solution to your problem. And it will be good to know the Proudfoot genes are not going to end with me.’
She laughed. ‘Yes, that would be a terrible pity.’
Still grinning that Prince Harry smile, Hugo stood and then offered out his hand. ‘Shall we shake on it?’
Her tummy fluttering, her hands also a little quivery and uncharacteristic tears welling up in her eyes, Madeleine nodded as she leant across her desk and reached out to him. His hand closed around hers in a firm grasp and the tiny little hairs on her arms and at the back of her neck lifted. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, before quickly retrieving her hand.
‘I think this deserves a celebration dinner,’ he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘You, me and Celia. What do you say?’
Strangely, she didn’t want to toast their decision with Celia. Madeleine would have preferred to go home and languish in a warm bath, dreaming about what was to come. But she couldn’t exactly turn Hugo down after what he’d just offered. ‘That sounds good.’
‘Great. I’ll go make a reservation.’ With a slight wave of his hand, he turned, opened the door and walked out of her office, a definite spring in his step.
And Madeleine sank back in her seat to reflect on what the fuck had just happened.
Celia held up her crystal champagne flute and grinned at Madeleine and Hugo who were sitting at a square table on either side of her at their favourite harbourside restaurant. ‘I think we need a toast.’
Hugo raised his glass, which incidentally held club soda because both he and Madeleine were not drinking in the lead-up to attempted conception.
‘To Madeleine’s baby,’ Celia said, clinking her glass first with Madeleine and then with Hugo.
‘To Madeleine’s baby,’ Hugo echoed.
‘To … to my baby!’ Madeleine had almost said ‘our baby’ and took a long sip, hoping neither Celia nor Hugo had noticed. She was sitting here with the father of her future child and his future wife. Talk about complicated.
The Patterson Girls Page 22