Pregnant With The Boss's Baby. Sue MacKay
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go there. He wasn’t available. Conor opened up to the chill ramping through him, let it into his voice box. ‘Sure is. When did you do the tests?’
‘Friday. Then Saturday.’
Conor felt his face tighten, worked at softening his facial muscles. Failed. ‘You could’ve said something sooner. You’ve got my phone number.’ Genuine anger was moving in, heating his cheeks, deflecting the chill.
‘I could have, yes.’ Tamara swallowed, started again. ‘But I didn’t want to believe it. Telling you makes it irrefutably real.’
‘You were in denial.’ That he could understand. About where he was right now.
‘Totally. I have—’ Gasp. Her hands clenched tight on her elbows. ‘I had plans, and being pregnant is upending everything. Again. I’ve worked so hard to be in charge of my future.’
What did she mean by again? And being in charge of herself? Wasn’t everybody? ‘You don’t want the baby?’ he snapped. How did that make him feel? Relieved? Not at all. Really? Who the hell knew? Not him. He charged for the door, reached for the handle to haul it open. Stopped. Spun around to face her, rose up and down on his toes as he waited for her reply to his telling question.
‘I never said that,’ she said sharply. ‘Or implied it.’
‘Just checking.’ Sounding like a heel, boyo. Now, there was a surprise. His head was full to the brim with questions, denials, longings, anger—every blasted emotion under the sun. Name it, it was there. ‘I don’t know you well enough to read your mind.’
Tamara fixed him with a glare. ‘Then take this on board. I won’t be going to university next year after all, and I so wanted to become a doctor. Instead I’m having a baby. Then I’m going to be a mother, something I know next to nothing about.’ She stared at him, imploring him to understand. ‘I don’t want to be like my mother. She believed nannies were put on earth so she could go to charity meetings and play mediocre golf.’
The bitterness colouring those words was almost tangible and Conor wanted to wipe it away, make her feel better. So he remained by the door. Start doing that and who knew what would happen next. They had a lot to get through over the coming weeks and any out-of-the-ordinary moves like that would only turn everything murky. He had to be aloof, separate. ‘I’d have said she did a great job with you.’ There, honest but uninvolved.
Tamara snarled, ‘Don’t talk about something you know nothing about.’
Ouch. He’d hit a painful point, for sure. ‘Fair enough.’ He strode back to his chair, dropped into it and banged his feet on the desktop. His hands gripped together under his chin as he studied Tamara. Looking for what? He wasn’t sure.
‘There’s nothing fair about any of this,’ she retorted.
He couldn’t agree more. But what he said was, ‘You have no idea.’
‘About what?’ she asked in a rare belligerent tone.
‘I can’t have children.’
‘Wrong. You are having one next year. In April, I reckon. It’s no one else’s.’
‘I am not accusing you of lying to me, Tamara.’
She lurched, as though stabbed by pain. Her hands clenched even tighter. But she kept her head high and those cocoa-coloured eyes fixed on him. ‘Then I don’t understand.’
‘I can’t have children. It’s as simple as that.’
Someone knocking on the door had Conor hauling his feet off the table quick fast. ‘Go away. I’m busy,’ he yelled in frustration.
They both held their breaths until it became apparent whoever was out there had taken his advice.
Tamara asked quietly, ‘You can’t? Or won’t?’
Back to the elephant. She knew next to nothing about him, and he wasn’t about to let his tongue go crazy filling in the gaps. Though there was one detail he’d have to reveal. His feet hit the floor in an instant, and his head spun as he came upright. Not now. Not today.
‘Conor?’ Not so quiet.
‘Either way, it makes no difference.’
Tamara’s eyes narrowed. ‘If there are things I need to know for my baby’s sake then tell me.’
He moved away from the desk abruptly, his chair flung back against the wall. His hands went to his hips, held tight. ‘All my adult life I’ve actively avoided this exact moment. Yet here it is, staring me down.’ Commitment with a capital C.
‘Don’t you like children? You’re always amazing with them in the department, teasing and fun, easing their distress. I wouldn’t have believed you were faking it.’ She paused, and when he didn’t answer she continued. ‘We need to talk, about a lot of things. Seems you’ve got issues. Which means I do too. I need to know what they are, Conor. For our child’s sake, if nothing else.’
‘What I need right now is some air. This office is stuffy. I’ll see you back at work shortly.’ Pulling the door open, he stepped right up against Michael’s extended hand.
‘I was about to knock,’ the registrar muttered, dropping his hand quickly. ‘We’ve got a situation and you’re both needed. Urgently.’
‘I’m on my break.’ Conor hauled the brakes on his motor mouth, breathed deep. ‘Sorry, start again. What situation?’
I need to get away from here, from Tamara and the distress in those serious eyes. I need to work out what’s just happened. Have I spent fourteen years being deliberately solo for nothing?
He felt movement beside him, heard Tamara ask, in a voice that didn’t sound a lot stronger than his, ‘What is it, Michael?’
‘I’ve just got off the phone from Ambulance Headquarters. All hell’s about to break out. There’s been an accident involving a busload of children.’
Saved by the phone. Conor started down the corridor towards the centre of the department, and swore. He didn’t really wish harm on those kids so he could avoid facing up to Tamara’s news. News that at the moment had to go on hold. ‘Continue.’
‘A school bus has rolled off the motorway on-ramp in Newmarket. There are many serious casualties.’ The registrar’s voice slowed, dropped an octave. ‘And some fatalities.’
Conor saw the precise moment the reality of what he’d reported to them hit Michael. The guy’s eyes widened, and his body sagged a little. Something like his own reaction to Tamara’s news. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he said, ‘Okay, get everyone together and I’ll outline how we go about this.’
‘They’re all waiting for you and Tamara at the desk.’ Michael’s voice cracked. ‘This is huge.’
‘We’ll manage by breaking it down into components.’ Conor was already busy drawing up a mental list of people to call, jobs to do, equipment to check over. The moment he stood in front of his team he wasted no time. ‘Firstly, no one’s going home at three.’ The clock showed two thirty-five. He glanced at Tamara, who’d moved in beside Kelli.
Horror and despair for what they would shortly be dealing with filled her eyes. All of the previous distress about their own personal situation had been shoved aside. He nodded at her. Very impressive. She’d been ahead of him.
A tall, blond-haired man stepped into the area. ‘What’s up?’
‘Mac.’ Conor nodded at the head of the evening shift as he joined them. ‘We’re about to receive multiple stat one junior patients from a bus accident.’ He quickly added the few details he had. ‘You should take over right from the start. It’s going to be your roster.’
Mac shook his head. ‘No, you carry on, get things rolling. Your team’s all here, mine is yet to arrive.’
It