One Month to Become a Mum. Louisa George
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when he gets the all-clear, ice cream might be nice?’
Jessie watched in awe. Forget bombastic. Commanding. Empathetic. Luke’s velvet voice had taken on a lulling tone, so calming. Trust me, it said.
It certainly seemed to be working on Tyler and his mum, who gazed at him, solemn as he reassured them.
He did everything by the book. Assessing, acting, anticipating. And all with genuine compassion.
‘As you know, Tyler had an allergic reaction to a bee sting.’ Luke held the woman’s hand and now focused entirely on her as he spoke. ‘We’ve given him an injection to help, but sometimes the reaction can come back. So we’ll keep an eye on him in hospital for a day or so. Has this ever happened before?’
‘No. Never. It was horrible.’ She shivered and turned to Jessie. ‘You saved his life. Thank you.’
‘Hey, really, it’s my job. He might have to carry a special injection around with him after this. Just in case he gets another sting, and another reaction this bad.’
Jessie twisted to check on their patient. She’d been holding his wrist and monitoring his pulse. ‘He’s getting a better colour in his lips now. His heart’s still racing, but that’ll be from the bolus of adrenalin. It saved his life, but it can give a heck of a kick to the system.’
Maggie popped back into the room and glanced at each of them in turn. ‘Oh, good. Ambulance is here. I’ll show them in.’
After twenty minutes and a detailed handover Jessie stood in Reception and watched Luke say goodbye to his patient. A buzz of excitement still thrilled round her body. Excess adrenalin was always hard to shake off. At least, she put it down to the medical emergency and not the view.
Luke had handled everything with a professionalism and calm that had had everyone doing his bidding. And yet she’d never seen a more compassionate and composed doctor. His morning clinic had ended with a bang and he still remained as fresh as if the day had just begun. Still Dr Perfect. How did he manage it?
Unlike her. She ran a hand over her hair and looked round for a mirror. Scarecrow chic now probably.
Alarm bells rang loudly in her head. Since coming back to New Zealand, she’d become more and more concerned about how she looked. What did it matter all of a sudden? Appearances didn’t matter. Work did. Saving lives did. Tyler did.
Of course, it was easy—scratch that, essential—for a woman with scars to believe that. Anything else would be just plain stupid. Or egotistical suicide. And she certainly wasn’t into that.
Luke’s eyebrows rose as he closed the front door and turned to her. ‘Thanks for your help in there. You’re one hell of a doctor.’
Heat shunted up her neck. Yes, she was a good doctor. But it felt great hearing it from a colleague. ‘Ditto. Are you okay?’
‘Sure. Why not?’
‘I just thought, having Lucy, it must be hard dealing with sick littlies.’ She knew how hard it was and was giving him a let-out to voice it. ‘We don’t just have to suck it up, you know. It can be good to talk about it.’
‘I’m fine. Seriously.’ His back straightened and his shoulders pushed back. If he had any kind of fatherly concerns, he wasn’t going to share them. ‘We handled everything by the book, I’d say.’
And so she left it. There was a faint question in his eye, then a shut-down look like the one in the car. He clearly wasn’t comfortable talking about his life or Lucy or his worries.
She shrugged and changed the subject. ‘Turning into an interesting first day.’
‘You can say that again.’
He stopped in front of her, jotted a note, signed some prescriptions. As he wrote, fluidly and neatly for a doctor, his shoulders relaxed and his features softened. Then he turned to her and smiled. His blue-grey eyes were like burnished steel, sparked with a heat that reached to her belly. ‘I would like to invite you to lunch.’
‘Oh?’ No need for the hackles. The guy was probably married. Although he wore no wedding band. No white mark. No mention of a wife. Good grief, how did she know that?
‘I usually do a quick debrief at the sushi bar on a locum’s first day. But unfortunately I have a load of errands to run. It’s Lucy’s birthday next week and I’m on party duty. Maybe later in the week?’
She breathed out deeply. ‘No worries, I’ll grab a roll and catch up on paperwork. Maybe familiarise myself again with the resus trolley.’
She flashed him a conspiratorial smile. Memorising the colour-coded packs on the resus trolley was a matter of professional pride. Besides, hours out of his presence would be a fine idea. Then perhaps she could work out why she’d made a study of his left ring finger. ‘Hope you get it all sorted.’
‘Petting zoos and bouncy castles? I doubt it. There’s way too much to get my head around. And I thought medical finals were hard.’ He turned. ‘Maybe we can debrief later? After surgery. Five o’clock.’
‘I was hoping to get home …’
But he was gone.
‘Okay, see you later.’ Jess sighed. So, he lived a busy life. Full-time doctor and very hands on dad. Hopefully tonight’s meeting would be quick if he had a family to go home to and a party to arrange.
She looked round the empty reception area and pushed him out of her head. Where to start? Resus trolley? Sushi?
But that made her think of him again.
‘Oh.’ He stuck his head back around the door, making her jump almost out of her skin. ‘Daft idea, but I don’t suppose you know anything about organising parties for a three-year-old? To be honest, I’m flummoxed by it all. I’m told fancy dress is mandatory. Apparently.’
‘Er … no.’ Typical, he’d come back just as she’d been able to breathe normally again and now her breath had been snatched away. She couldn’t remember the last party she’d been to, kid’s or otherwise. Invites weren’t exactly forthcoming when she moved around enough not to forge any meaningful relationships.
She pressed against the reception desk, grateful to lean against something solid. Almost instinctively her palm ran over the hard knobbles and knots of skin over her abdomen. She cradled the emptiness, the place where she’d once felt her baby kick. Now a mess of scarred tissue. A shaft of pain exploded in her stomach. She breathed it away, shook her head. No. No kid’s parties. And no point dwelling on the past.
‘Sorry. No idea. I’m definitely the wrong person to ask.’
‘Ah, well, worth trying.’
Dragging on a smile, she shrugged. ‘Anyway, shouldn’t you be discussing parties with Lucy’s mum?’
‘Yeah, right.’ His jaw muscles tightened as he turned back towards the corridor. ‘Forget it, I’ll sort it out.’
Brilliant. Deep joy. Talk about putting her two size sevens straight into her big, stupid, careless mouth.
Jessie stared at the computer screen, trying to concentrate on the next patient’s notes. But so many new questions crowded her head. Why wouldn’t Luke talk to Lucy’s mother about organising parties? The only clues she had were the flicker of disdain in his eyes and the clenched cheek muscle; clearly relations between him and the girl’s mother were strained.
‘Excuse me? Jessie?’ Maggie bustled into the room, dragging Jessie away from her reverie. ‘Any chance you can see Kyle Phillips soon? He’s tearing around the waiting room and driving his mum close to tears.’
‘Of course. I was just about to call him in.’
‘I could ask Luke to squeeze him in if you’re too busy.’ Maggie looked pointedly around the empty room, no doubt wondering why on earth they’d employed such a slacker. ‘He usually