by Lucy Clark
He watched as her gaze dipped to his mouth, the smile slowly starting to slip from her lips. The atmosphere around them became clouded with repressed sensual tension and John silently willed her to lean towards him, to close the distance between them.
When the waitress arrived with their drinks, he eased back in his chair, almost pleased with the interruption. Mackenzie wasn’t the sort of woman to leap into something without figuring all the angles, especially after her own past experiences. She was cautious, careful and he appreciated those qualities.
He was the type of man to throw himself wholeheartedly into new projects, such as they’d experienced that morning with hiring the car and buying paraphernalia for his new place—wherever that might be. But Mackenzie wasn’t a project. She wasn’t the type of woman to enter into a short-term affair with no questions asked and then be more than content to say goodbye when it was time for him to move on. And he appreciated that, too.
‘So what’s next on the list? Place to live?’ she asked as he sipped his coffee.
‘Yes. Any suggestions?’
‘Buying or renting?’ She looked at him over the rim of her cup, more than a little interested in his answer.
John frowned. ‘I’m not entirely sure.’ At least, he had been sure he wanted to rent because when his contract was up in twelve months’ time, he’d had every intention of moving on. That had been until he’d met Mackenzie again. ‘Do you have something in mind?’
‘I might. I’m presuming you want somewhere close to the hospital?’
‘Within a reasonable distance. Now that I have transport, it’s not that big a deal but neither do I want to spend hours in traffic every morning.’
Mackenzie nodded. ‘Well, there’s a townhouse in our cul-de-sac that’s up for sale but it’s been vacant for the past six months and the owners might be willing to rent it out rather than sell.’
John stared at her. ‘Are you sure? You’d want to live next door to me?’
Mackenzie put her cup down and spread her hands wide, surprised to find them shaking a little. She quickly clasped them together. ‘Well, it’s close to the hospital, in a nice area and readily available. You could probably move in tomorrow if you wanted.’
‘But you’d be OK living next door to me?’ He leaned forward in his seat again, resting his hands on the table, a fraction away from hers.
‘Why wouldn’t I want to live next door to a friend?’ she countered. ‘Plus, this way you can get to know the other people who live in the other townhouses and expand your circle of friends. You did say you like to meet new people.’
‘Yes, I did,’ he agreed, and quickly thought through what she was saying. Surely it couldn’t do him any harm to at least look at the place. ‘If I moved in, we might even be able to car-pool if we’re on the same shift.’ John instantly grinned. ‘But we’ll be taking my car. Now that I don’t have to get into your little clown car, I won’t.’
Mackenzie laughed and a wave of relief washed over her. John was here for twelve months. Her John. Who knew what might happen? Before she could process what this might mean, a loud scream pierced the air. Mackenzie and John turned to look where, at the next coffee shop, a mother was crouched on the ground next to her young son, who seemed to be shaking violently.
‘Help! Help!’ The urgency of the cries made them both spring up from their seats and rush over. Several people had stopped to look, concern on their faces. Mackenzie noticed one of the waitresses on the phone, her eyes as wide as saucers as she spoke quickly.
‘Are you calling an ambulance?’ Mackenzie called loudly, and the woman nodded as Mackenzie and John shifted tables and chairs out the way in order to get to the young boy. ‘I’m a doctor. Let me through. I can help.’ She made her way to the child and knelt down. The boy appeared to be around four years old and was thrashing around on the ground, his body convulsing with spasms. ‘He’s having a seizure,’ Mackenzie stated firmly.
‘Move everything away, out of his reach,’ John ordered other people who were just standing there, staring, completely unsure what to do. He looked at one of the waitresses behind the counter. ‘Medical kit?’
‘Yes.’
‘Get it, please.’
Mackenzie looked at the overwrought mother, who was kneeling by her young son, her hands clasped at her chest, her pallor as pale as a ghost’s. ‘Does he have any medication?’ she asked.
‘N-no. He’s never…done anything like…’ She stopped as the boy’s foot kicked over a half-empty cup someone had left on the ground, the liquid contained inside flying through the air and spraying a few bystanders.
‘Hold him down,’ someone instructed.
‘Put your fingers in his mouth or he’ll swallow his tongue,’ another suggested.
Mackenzie ignored them, rolling the boy onto his side to protect his airway and keep it clear. ‘What’s his name?’ she asked.
‘Perry,’ his mother said on a sob. ‘Is he going to be all right? What’s wrong with him?’
‘Perry?’ Mackenzie called, ignoring the rest of the crowd. She could hear John keeping everyone at bay, taking control of the situation so she could focus on Perry.
‘Perry?’ she called again. ‘Perry. It’s OK. Everything’s going to be fine.’ Her words were calm and controlled and as she placed one gentle hand onto his shoulder, still soothing in her speech, she felt his little body start to calm. The spasms took a short while to subside and by the time they did, they could hear the sound of an ambulance siren heading in their direction.
‘Wha-what…?’ Perry tried to speak as his gaze slowly began to focus on Mackenzie’s face. When he didn’t immediately recognise her, he began looking around frantically for his mum, his lower lip beginning to wobble. ‘Mummy? Mummy?’
Mackenzie looked across at Perry’s mother, who seemed to be as stiff as a statue, completely frightened by what had transpired. ‘You’re fine, Perry. I’m a doctor. My name is Mackenzie. Mummy’s right here,’ she said, quickly pointing. Perry turned his head and upon seeing his mother sitting there, staring at him in shock, he immediately tried to sit up, but Mackenzie placed a hand on his arm to stop him.
‘Just lie still for a moment, Perry.’ Mackenzie looked up at John, who was just accepting the medical kit from the waitress, and inclined her head towards the stunned mother. Instantly, John knelt down beside the distraught parent and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
‘It’s OK now. He’s come out of it and he needs you.’
‘What?’ The woman turned worried and confused eyes in his direction and John directed her gaze towards her little son. As the mother focused, belatedly realising that Perry had stopped fitting and was looking up at her, she instantly started to cry as she bent to gather him close.
‘Oh, Perry. Mummy was so worried.’
At seeing his mother crying, Perry’s own tears started to flow and Mackenzie took the opportunity to reach for the medical kit and pull on a pair of gloves. Thankfully, the kit contained a penlight torch and she checked Perry’s pupils, noting that they were equal and reacting to light. She also checked his mouth to ensure he hadn’t accidentally bitten his tongue but there was no cause for concern.
As she took Perry’s pulse, announcing it to be within normal parameters for someone who had just had a seizure, John stood.
‘Good job, Dr Mackenzie,’ he stated, giving her a quick wink and a smile before looking down the street. ‘Ambulance is here. I’ll go and guide them through.’ With that, he headed off, leaving Mackenzie to wish he wouldn’t wink at her in such a fashion as it caused a devastating effect on her equilibrium.
‘Mummy? You’re squashing me,’ Perry said, his tears beginning to dry a little. The boy’s mother apologised and loosened her hold.
‘Is there anyone you want me to call? Someone who can meet you at the hospital?’ Mackenzie asked as she pulled off her gloves, balled them together and put them into her pocket.
‘My husband,’ the woman said, and rattled
off the phone number to Mackenzie. After the call was made, Mackenzie helped the woman to gather her things together as John led the paramedics towards them.
As they transferred Perry to the stretcher, the little boy looking tiny, Mackenzie explained to the mother about seizures, and although she couldn’t say for certain what had caused it until scans had been taken of Perry’s brain, the mother was certainly less fraught by the time they were safe inside the ambulance.
‘Can you come to the hospital with us?’ the mother begged. ‘You were very good with Perry. Do you have children?’
Mackenzie glanced up at John. ‘One. Just a little older than Perry.’
‘Then you know what it’s like. You can understand that when something is wrong with your child, you need people around you who you can trust.’ She was clutching Mackenzie’s arm, lines of worry, concern and fear etched on her face.
‘Of course we’ll meet you at the hospital,’ John declared, his soothing voice filling the woman with reassurance. It was the same tone he’d used with Mackenzie all those years ago and as they stood side by side and watched the ambulance head back into the busy Maroochydore traffic, its sirens and lights flashing, Mackenzie couldn’t help but slip her hand into John’s and give it a little squeeze.
‘You’re very good at putting people at ease,’ she told him. ‘It’s a gift, John.’
‘I thought it was called having a good bedside manner,’ he returned.
‘Then yours is very good.’
A slow smile spread across his face, highlighting the gorgeousness that was John. They both stared at each other for a long moment. His gaze dipped to take in her parted lips, the tension between them increasing within a matter of seconds.
It was clear there was something very real building between them but what they should do about it and what it might mean were questions to which she had no idea where to find the answers.
John eventually cleared his throat. ‘We’d best—’
‘Go.’ She nodded and for another moment neither of them moved, not wanting whatever it was that existed between them to end. Eventually, they came to their senses at the same moment and let go of each other’s hands at the same time.
‘Focus,’ she heard him mutter, and she couldn’t have agreed more.
*
By the weekend, John had taken possession of number one in her cul-de-sac. He’d hired furniture and was busy moving in, Mackenzie, Bergan and the Allingtons all pitching in to help their new neighbour. Ruthie kept running around the townhouse, hooting and giggling at the echoes in some of the empty rooms. She helped by carrying small things such as cushions and books and other bits and bobs that wouldn’t break if she accidentally dropped them.
They’d met Perry and his mother in Sunshine General’s A and E department, where Mackenzie had introduced Perry to Bergan. After ordering scans of Perry’s brain as well as blood tests, he’d been kept in overnight for observation, but at this stage there were still no obvious reason why the little boy had fitted.
‘That poor mother,’ Mackenzie had said to John before they’d left the hospital. ‘Sometimes not knowing what’s wrong or what caused it is worse.’
‘At least their general practitioner can take it from here and chances are it’s the first warning sign that something may go wrong in the future.’
‘Still,’ Mackenzie had sighed. ‘He’s just so…little. It makes me want to grab Ruthie and hold onto her for the rest of her life.’
John’s jaw had clenched tightly at Mackenzie’s words. ‘I know the feeling.’
Mackenzie stood with her hands on her hips, surveying John’s new lounge room. ‘All you need to complete your new bookshelves are a few framed family photos and this room will look like it’s been here for ever.’
‘I don’t have any family photographs.’ His tone was brisk, distant and she immediately looked up at him, astonished to see him frowning.
‘Um, I didn’t mean anything by it, John. I was just making a comment,’ she said quickly, wishing she’d thought more about his situation before she’d spoken out loud. ‘It was more of a general decorating sort of comment. I didn’t mean anything personal by—’
‘It’s fine,’ he said, closing his eyes for a moment and shaking his head. ‘I…overreacted.’ Without another word he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Mackenzie kicking herself for being so insensitive. Although it did leave her with the question of why he didn’t have any personal photographs. In fact, most of the things they’d shifted into the townhouse during the day were either newly bought or newly hired.
From what she understood, all he’d brought from the hotel had been a few suitcases full of clothes, but perhaps he wasn’t the sort of man to need his memories wrapped up in a pretty frame.
In the evening John ordered take-away dinners for all his helpers, everyone sitting around his new dining table, enjoying a time of friendship.
‘Thanks for a great evening,’ Mackenzie said as she carried a tired Ruthie to the door.
‘No. Thank you for helping.’ He rested a hand on her upper arm and smiled. ‘It’s been an exhausting but good day.’
‘That it has and it’s completely tired Ruthie out, which is always an added bonus.’ She shifted the little girl in her arms, Ruthie mumbling as she rested her head against her mother’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
‘Did you want me to carry her?’
‘No. It’s all right. I’ll manage. She’s just such a dead weight when she sleeps.’
‘But we’re neighbours now. It’s what neighbours do.’ Before she could say another word he’d effortlessly scooped Ruthie into his arms and was heading out of his front door. Mackenzie went ahead of him, opening doors and heading up to Ruthie’s purple room, pulling back the light duvet in readiness.
John placed the little girl onto the bed and Mackenzie removed Ruthie’s shoes, before standing back and looking down at her baby. ‘Time has flown by so very fast,’ she murmured. ‘Some days it seems like just yesterday we were in the hospital in Sydney, waiting for news of her surgery.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed softly, and as they stood there, looking down at the sleeping child, it seemed the most natural thing in the world for John to put his arm around her shoulders. Mackenzie sighed and shifted a little closer to him, both of them remaining silent for a while, content just to watch Ruthie sleep.
‘It must be so difficult for you, John. So many memories of Mune-hie.’
‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘But today’s been good. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around a child for any great stretch of time and today, watching Ruthie’s excitement at the echoes of an empty house, it made me realise that Mune-hie not only gave us so much joy but we gave her joy in return.’
‘Oh, yes. I have no doubt about that. You’re wonderful with Ruthie, which tells me you were also a wonderful father.’ She glanced up at him. ‘Bad things sometimes happen to good people. There’s no rhyme or reason why. They just do.’ After another comfortable and companionable silence she asked softly, ‘Do you want to talk about her? Because I’d love to get to know your daughter through your memories.’
John remained silent but she felt his hand on her shoulder tense for a moment before relaxing. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible as they stood there, watching her daughter sleep.
‘Mune-hie loved to sing.’ He breathed in deeply as though even those words had been difficult to speak out loud. ‘Jacqueline loved to sing her to sleep every night with a Tarparniian lullaby, or at least the closest the Tarparniians can get to a lullaby, given their language is rather guttural. We didn’t want her to forget her heritage.’ He took another deep breath but this time Mackenzie could hear the smile in his voice.
‘We taught her the usual nursery rhymes and after singing them to her once or twice, she knew all the words and would mimic us perfectly.’ His smile broadened. ‘By the time she was four she was giving us and our friends little singing concerts that used to last for at least
fifteen minutes, sometimes longer, depending on how much we all clapped.’
Mackenzie chuckled at this. ‘She sounds so delightful, John. A happy little songbird.’
‘Yes.’ He looked from the sleeping child to Mackenzie. Her face was hidden in the shadows of the room but he could see she was smiling.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
‘No. Thank you. I don’t talk about them much because it hurts.’
‘Perhaps by sharing your memories of their lives, of the wonderful times you shared, it might help dull the pain you’ve been carrying around for so long.’
‘Is that your prescription, Doctor?’
She chuckled. ‘It is, and personally I’d love to hear about them. Good memories should always be treasured, and treasure means more if it’s shared.’
‘What about you? Do you have any good memories of Warick?’
Mackenzie sighed and angled her head towards Ruthie. ‘I’ve been conscious of only telling Ruthie the good things about her dad and making sure she has a picture of him so she can know what he looked like,’ she said, pointing at a small picture on Ruthie’s bookshelf of Warick’s smiling face looking back at them from a purple frame.
‘I tell her little things like the way he could peel an apple in one long curly strip, usually directly into his mouth. Or the way he would wear different-coloured braces to work every day.’ She shook her head in bemusement. ‘Warick had at least fifty different pairs of braces and it wasn’t even like he needed them to hold up his trousers. He just thought they looked good.’
‘You don’t miss him?’
Mackenzie sighed. ‘No. Sometimes I miss…having someone, you know, the whole sole-parenting thing. At times I think it would be nice to be able to come home, share the domestic duties and then once Ruthie was in bed just to sit and talk quietly.’ She shrugged one shoulder. ‘But I guess I get that with my close friends, who are more like family, so I really shouldn’t complain.’
‘It doesn’t sound like you’re complaining,’ he remarked, remembering all too clearly how exhausting parenting could be. John breathed in deeply, now becoming consciously aware of Mackenzie’s sweet scent. Mackenzie herself was incredibly sweet but he couldn’t believe the pressure he felt had been lifted from his heart just by sharing with her, and to have her share with him in return only made him like her even more.