One Night to Forever Family Page 14

  Andy shook his head. ‘As far back as either of their parents or grandparents were concerned, no one remembered a child who was seriously ill from birth.’

  He paused, then added, ‘Not that that mattered. They had Sarah and she was a blessing to our family. She was so funny and smart, Sam, and so unconcerned about the difficulties she faced every day.’

  He paused.

  ‘We loved her,’ he said simply, but his voice was tight, and Sam reached out to hold his hand. Some other time they’d talk more about Sarah, but for now she had to concentrate on her child—their child...

  She’d get tested for CF, and if she wasn’t found to be a carrier, there was only a minimal chance of her being one of the rare ones, and even if she was... She shuddered at the thought then pushed it away—all the odds were in her favour, although she knew nothing of her father’s family, nothing of her father, for that matter.

  ‘If I’m not a carrier then there’s no problem,’ she said.

  ‘We’d still have to test the baby,’ Andy told her. ‘Remember the small percentage of people with the rare mutation that testing doesn’t reveal.’

  Sam sighed and shook her head, unable to take it all in, staring down at the table and fiddling with her cutlery, twirling her knife on the stiffly starched tablecloth.

  ‘Let’s wait and see,’ she said. ‘At the moment it’s just all ifs and buts and maybes—all hypothetical. Whatever my test reveals, I’ll get the foetus tested and go from there. Okay?’

  * * *

  Andy had to smile at Sam, refusing to get carried away with possibilities, or be concerned over things that might never eventuate. He might mull over it all, and run through dozens of scenarios in his head, but she just got on with things—meeting problems head on. Practical, loving Sam.

  Their meals arrived, and as they ate they talked about the food, how good it was, how special to be eating with the ocean right there below them, yet he knew Sam’s brain would be working through consequences, and that this was only a temporary lull in the main conversation.

  And as the waiter took their plates and left them with a dessert menu, the topic did resume again.

  ‘There’s a huge amount of research being done about CF at the moment,’ she said, ‘and treatments are improving all the time. Imagine if a heart-lung transplant had been available for your sister, Sarah.’

  She was smiling at the thought, and Andy could only shake his head. He’d hit Sam with what must have been quite frightening news and here she was thinking of the positives.

  Although... Andy knew she was speaking calmly and rationally, but his mind had snagged back at the testing part of her conversation. Sam’s use of the little words ‘I’ and ‘I’ll’ had rattled him. Surely it should have been ‘we’ and ‘us’...

  Did she not want it to be a shared venture—not want to marry him and make a family with this baby and maybe others?

  Because she didn’t love him?

  Or because of the CF thing?

  His heart ached, and he longed to ask, but his fear of her answer was greater than his need to know. So he changed the subject.

  ‘You said, when you told me you were pregnant, “that last time” your morning sickness had begun early. When was “that last time”, Sam? Surely I’d have known of it?’

  CHAPTER NINE

  TO TELL OR not to tell?

  Did it really matter after all this time?

  Sam studied the dessert menu as she pondered the questions, not seeing any of the options, just trying to think. Then, aware of the tension growing between them, she lifted her head to meet Andy’s eyes.

  ‘That was the cause of the argument,’ she said, the words blunt and hard as stones. ‘Between Nick and me—when we crashed.’

  Another pause, the words that had been held in by locked-away memories caused such pain and guilt she could barely speak. Then, slowly, it came out.

  ‘Nick said a baby would interrupt my career trajectory—and to me it was such a stupid thing to say, especially as I so wanted a family. I blew up.’

  She studied Andy’s face, seeking understanding—compassion even—but in her emotional state saw nothing.

  ‘I hadn’t had a family—not a real one. Just me and Mum. I thought Nick knew how much I wanted children, I’d talked about it often enough.’

  Andy nodded, but it was an uncomfortable nod. He’d always known a family hadn’t been part of Nick’s agenda, although, apparently, Sam, his wife, had not!

  But she had a story to tell—a confession to finish.

  She took a deep breath, twiddled her dessert spoon, then met Andy’s eyes again.

  ‘He said, get rid of it. Those were his first words, then he went on and on about how it would wreck my career and his career, and I lost it, Andy. Said he didn’t know me at all—didn’t know how much I ached for a family. I was furious with him—I said things I should never have said, things about him having controlled my life for too long. I was so angry—real redhead rage—I was yelling like a madwoman. It was no wonder Nick was speeding.’

  ‘Sam!’

  The single word made her blink, and now she did see concern and understanding on his face, and as he took her hands in both of his, the hot memories of her anger melted away and she clung to his fingers—a lifeline back to the present...

  ‘You can’t keep blaming yourself,’ he said, his voice scratchy with emotion. ‘I know I was in shock and somehow took that out on you and I’ll never forgive myself for that, but you weren’t to blame. Yes, the things you said might have upset Nick, but he was a grown man, thirty-five, and reacting by speeding was a stupid thing to do—his stupid reaction caused that crash, not your words.’

  ‘But I lost the baby,’ Sam said, still trapped in her memories. ‘I could have walked away from Nick—divorced him, kept the baby and followed a new career, even though I’d never considered my work as a “career”—never even thought about a bloody career trajectory!’

  Andy smiled at her. ‘I know that, love,’ he said gently, and that one little word, tacked onto a simple reassurance, made her heart leap.

  ‘Dessert?’

  She shook her head, hugging the word to her, although she knew it was probably just a casual endearment.

  He’d made it very clear he’d taken her in because she was his best friend’s widow—love between them had never been mentioned, although she hadn’t realised how she’d felt about Andy until...

  Well, that had been her reason to move out.

  ‘So, whatever happens, you want to keep this baby?’ he said.

  Brought back to earth with a thud, she could only shake her head.

  ‘I’ll get genetic testing first and let’s go from there. CSV sampling will tell us the baby’s okay, and after that— Oh, Andy!’

  She knew she was probably looking piteously into his eyes, and could hear the plea in her voice, but how the hell did you make that kind of decision? Surely, as a medical practitioner it would be an ethical one, but for her as a person such a very personal one.

  ‘Let’s pay the bill and walk,’ he said, as she saw the shadows on his face—shadows of the past, reflections of the shadows she’d have had on hers earlier.

  ‘Two near marriages?’ she probed, as they walked towards the cliff-top in front of the lighthouse, desperately needing to get away from her own problems.

  He nodded.

  ‘So tell me,’ she said gently.

  ‘The CF thing did raise issues,’ he said, sliding his hand out of hers and clasping both hands behind his back, a clear signal to her that this was not a subject he wished to pursue. Because he still felt deeply about the women—or about one of them in particular?

  She’d loved Nick, but would have left him in a heartbeat to have the child she’d so longed for. Which kind of answered the question about this baby. Providing she wasn’t a
carrier, and the baby tested negative for CF, then she’d...

  Damn and blast, why did life have to be so difficult?

  ‘Hey, you’ll be over the cliff if you don’t slow down!’

  She should be thinking about Andy, not her own problems, she reminded herself, stopping by the protective railing and looking down.

  Andy’s voice brought her out of her useless speculation, and she turned back towards him, aware she’d been getting carried away—aware of him.

  ‘There’s too much to think about,’ she said, walking back and taking his hands in hers as she faced him. ‘And I have to think about it, Andy.’

  ‘I know, love,’ he said, so gently and quietly she thought her heart might break.

  She moved closer and put her arms around him, held him—waiting, hoping.

  For what?

  Words of love?

  ‘Just get the testing done and we’ll go from there,’ he said, easing her back a little so he could look into her face. But with the moon behind him, his remained in shadow and told her nothing.

  They walked back to the car in silence, the magic all around them unnoticed or maybe it had gone completely.

  ‘Just get the testing done, and we’ll go from there.’

  His words echoed in her head.

  Go where? she wanted to ask, but if she proved to be a carrier...

  They could have this baby if it tested negative, but other babies—the family she wanted? She could go the IVF route so the fertilised eggs were tested, and only the ones without CF implanted, but...

  You are getting far too carried away with yourself. You want a family, but Andy has said nothing about it—might not even want to be part of this one.

  Just get the test and go from there!

  They drove home in silence, both, she imagined, lost in their own thoughts. And as he pulled the car into the underground car park she knew the silence needed to be broken. It had already grown to something far too big between them.

  And any bigger?

  Well, there’d be no them.

  If there was a them to begin with.

  Her heart ached at the thought. ‘Just for now’ hadn’t really started, and it was over—or all but over—before it had begun.

  ‘Do you know of a good medical practice nearby? I’ll need a referral for the test.’

  It wasn’t the perfect way to break the silence, but at least it was practical. And Andy grasped at it.

  ‘There’s one in the main shopping centre in town, the one behind the hospital.’

  The silence resumed, but only for an instant.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ he said, and she had to smile.

  ‘Andy, it’s only a blood test, or maybe a swab from inside my cheek. I could do it myself and send it to a private testing agency but let’s not get too carried away.’

  He’d stopped the car and opened his door so they had a little light, and she saw the concern on his face—concern that seemed to be easing towards dread.

  She took his hand.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she told him. ‘It’s a lot to think about, but it’s pointless getting too far ahead of ourselves with all the what-ifs. Let’s just get this first test done and take it from there.’

  ‘If you’re sure you don’t want me there...’

  The hesitant words made her smile.

  ‘Andy, it’s a blood test!’

  He didn’t answer, getting out of the car and coming around to open her door, which she would normally have done herself, only she was puzzling over why he was so concerned.

  Had the last woman he’d asked to take a test broken his heart?

  Refused, and walked away?

  Did he still love her?

  She slammed the door on the thoughts sprouting in her brain, and took Andy’s offered hand so he helped her out of the car, and then he took her in his arms and held her close.

  ‘Kind of put a dampener on the evening,’ he said softly into her ear, and the warmth of his breath against her skin had her body stirring. But she knew she had too much thinking to do to be getting more involved with Andy.

  Although as his lips moved to the little hollow beneath her chin she wondered just what harm there’d be in going ahead with ‘just for now’.

  Heaps, you idiot, her head yelled at her. Your heart’s already far too involved, don’t make it worse.

  ‘We’d better go before Rod appears and tells us it’s a public car park,’ she said, easing away from him. She fled, aware she’d been rude, hadn’t even thanked him for dinner, but right now she needed solitude, and a space she could call her own in which to think.

  * * *

  Andy watched her disappear through the heavy fire door, and realised he had absolutely no idea where he stood with this woman he was pretty sure he loved.

  Had loved, certainly, when he and Nick had first met her.

  She’d been an intern, rostered onto the ED for a term, and she’d been so bright, so alive, even on days when she’d worked through the night and stayed on because she was needed.

  And he’d stupidly, as it turned out, had his one and only experience of love at first sight. It had been ridiculous, really, as he’d kept telling himself all through Nick’s courtship of her and her starry-eyed wedding to his best mate.

  But that was a long time ago, and what he felt now—well, this was certainly different, this was like a deep ache in his gut.

  As if he was right back in the past again, in the agony of wanting a woman he couldn’t have. Loving her?

  He shook his head, aware he didn’t want to answer that question even to himself.

  He’d loved Annabel, but she’d obviously not loved him enough that she could back away at the first mention of CF, refusing even to consider a genetic test because she’d wanted children and wouldn’t risk him as a father.

  Which left him where?

  Forget it, he told himself. He might not need to think about any of this or make any decisions. The next decision would surely be Sam’s.

  * * *

  The medical centre had an appointment for her. Port being a holiday centre, they usually employed extra locums at these times. The pathology office was next door, so by midday she was done.

  The genetic testing of the foetus would need a specialist, who had offices in the private hospital, where she could also have the sample taken under ultrasound.

  While on a roll, she made an appointment to see an obstetrician in a couple of weeks, then, because she’d driven into town, took a detour home so she could get a feel for the place and check out the private hospital.

  Aware she was getting far too far ahead of herself but unable to stop herself hoping, she began to think about options.

  If she stayed with the obstetrician through her pregnancy, she’d probably have her baby here, although if she stuck with the public system she’d probably have a group of other mothers with her all the way and a midwife she could contact at any time.

  And, if anything went wrong—like a premature birth—her baby would end up in the public system anyway, as they had the best neonatal facilities.

  But she was impressed by the cottagey look of the private hospital—she’d check it out when she had her specialist appointment.

  Following no particular route, she drove through suburb after suburb, most of them fairly new, as if the town’s expansion into a city had been recent, but she loved the tree-lined streets—the trees still small but promising shade and privacy in the future.

  Her phone rang as she climbed out of her car.

  Andy!

  ‘How did it go?’

  ‘The blood test was fine, as easy and straightforward as you imagine. No instant results so we just have to wait. But I’ve made an appointment for an obstetrician to do the CVS, and I drove past the private hospital where he
has his offices and through some new and not quite so new suburbs. It seemed from the amount of building that the town developed rapidly.’

  ‘A new hospital, a university, even a big government science establishment, which could, from all the rumours, be developing robots small enough to be inserted into humans to control bad impulses. Or hamburgers made from insects—that’s another school of thought. In truth, no one knows but they’ve a big establishment on the edge of town and every kind of animal imaginable in paddocks around it, leading to a fair few unlikely rumours about interbreeding between species, so who knows?’

  ‘Don’t you know anyone working there that you could ask?’ Sam said, intrigued by the ideas.

  ‘I do, and they just smile at me so my imagination has even more lurid fantasies.’

  Sam laughed. ‘More lurid than mind-controlling bots?’ she teased.

  ‘Far more lurid.’ He laughed, and asked if they could meet up when he finished work.

  ‘I guess so,’ Sam said, but she did wonder if she needed a bit of distance between herself and Andy so she could get her head straightened out.

  * * *

  But meeting after work didn’t eventuate, Andy being kept late by the admission of a two-year-old who had found small button batteries in a jar and swallowed them, thinking they were candy.

  An X-ray showed eight still in the stomach but fortunately revealed none in the oesophagus or windpipe.

  ‘We’ll do a small procedure called an endoscopy,’ he explained to the parents, aware he wouldn’t want to leave the hospital until he knew the child was all right.

  But this was how life would be for him and Sam, should they ever manage to get together.

  He swore inwardly and continued his explanation to the parents.

  ‘He’ll be given light anaesthesia and the surgeon will pass a tube down his throat into his stomach to retrieve the batteries, and also check that there’s no damage to the lining of his stomach. He’ll be very sleepy after it, but it’s not a major procedure for him.’