Doctor, Mummy...Wife?

“It’s always good to know my standing.”

“Sure it is. You got stuck in a jammed-up clinic when I was gone and you’re blaming me for it. So now you want some answers. Can’t say that I blame you. Reverse the situation and I’d be asking the same questions.”

* * *

Simon kicked off his shoes and set his mug of coffee next to the sofa. Sighing, he popped an old classic movie into his DVD player then dropped down on the couch with his bowl of cold cereal, contented to spend the evening vegetating.

He’d gotten off to a rough start with Del and, to be honest, was surprised she hadn’t fired him on the spot. There really was no excuse for his questions, especially when he knew the answers. But he’d been in the mood to antagonize someone and Del had seemed to be it.

The thing was, he’d called to talk to Amy this morning and was told by her latest stepfather that he had no rights to the girl any longer, to please not call back or he’d be served with a restraining order. Damn! He missed her. Red hair and freckles, with a little gap between her front teeth—sometimes he swore he’d stayed married to her mother just because Amy was so endearing. But that was obviously over and now he wasn’t even allowed to talk to her any more. It hurt. It stung to the bone because he missed Amy with all his heart. Didn’t know how he was going to get along without her. And Del, well...she’d just caught some of his fallout. Wrong place, wrong time and with a child who was making her so happy—happy the way he’d used to be.

Well, one thing was for sure. He’d never, ever get involved with a woman who already had a child. It just opened him up to getting hurt again.

In the meantime, he owed Del a big apology for being so confrontational over everything today. She didn’t deserve it just because she’d had a child.

He owed her an apology and it wouldn’t keep until tomorrow. He opened his clinic information packet and found her cell-phone number. On impulse, he dialed.

“Hello,” she answered, almost in a whisper.

“Del, this is Simon Michaels.”

“And?”

“I may have been a little harsh with you today.”

“Not so I noticed,” she lied. “It was a tough day for everybody.”

“Still, I wasn’t myself and I’m calling to apologize.”

“No need. I wasn’t at my best, either, this being my first day back and all. Look, you woke up my baby. I’ve got to go. Can I call you back?”

“No need for that. I just wanted to apologize.”

“Thanks, Simon,” she said, and with that she hung up on him. And he actually chuckled. She was interesting, to say the least. Definitely her own woman marching to her own beat.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_c4f77ac5-2da4-5c73-a6bb-d01143b6eae5)

“HE’S NOT VERY pleasant at times,” Del said to Charlie as she gave him his nightly bath. “On the verge of rude and insulting. Then he calls and apologizes. Like what’s that all about?” Although he did exude a general sexiness about him, which was nothing she was going to admit out loud. Even when brooding he was sexy and she wondered, for a moment, what kind of social life he had going for himself. “It’s none of my business,” she told Charlie. “And I want you to point that out to me every time I have a straying thought about the man. OK? He’s handsome and has the ability to be charming, but that’s as much as I want to notice.”

The baby’s response was to splash around in the water and giggle.

“I’m not sure why my partners would have chosen him, except for the fact that he’s a good doctor, but that was their decision, not mine. And his credentials are good. At least he’s licensed here in Chicago, which saved a little bit of hassle. But that attitude...I’ve got to tell you, Charlie, you’re not going to grow up to be a man like he is, who goes back and forth. I’ll swear by all that I know as a doctor and what I’m learning as a mother that you’re going to have manners and respect.” Yeah, until he was an adult; then he could do anything he wanted, which scared her because somewhere there was probably a mother who’d said the same thing to her baby Simon. And look at the way he’d turned out. “I suppose a mother can only do so much,” she said as she pulled Charlie out of the baby bath and wrapped him in a towel. “But I’m going to teach you anyway and keep my fingers crossed I don’t go wrong somewhere.” Not to imply that Simon’s mother had gone wrong. Because Simon did have manners and just a touch of arrogance to offset them.

“Now, let’s get you dressed and I’ll read you a story. How about the one with the giraffe, tonight?” Sure, it was all in her mind but she thought that was Charlie’s favorite story. Of course, any story might have been his favorite, as he seemed delighted by everything she read him, including pages from a medical journal she’d read aloud to him one evening when she was trying to catch up on her own reading. It was the mother-child bond that mattered, the one she’d missed all day today while she’d been at work.

But on the other hand, work had had its number of fulfilling moments, too, and it was good getting back. She was still plagued with guilty feelings, though. Those weren’t going to go away, and she could foresee the time when the conflicts would become even greater, such as when Charlie learned to walk, or started talking. She didn’t want to miss those things, but it was conceivable he might say his first word to Mrs. Rogers or take his first step when she wasn’t around to see it. Sacrifices. Yes, there were definite sacrifices to be made, and she could feel them tugging at her heart. But she was still drawn to being a pediatrician, and while she felt guilty about working she felt no guilt at all about the work she did. It would have been nice, though, to have that proverbial cake and eat it, too.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen. She had a child to support now and her savings, while sufficient, weren’t enough to carry her through until he went to college. So off to work, get over the guilt. She supposed in time it would lessen, but her preference would always be to be there for her son.

“Once upon a time, there was a giraffe named George, who was shorter than all the other giraffes in the jungle. ‘Why can’t I be tall like my mother?’ he asked.” This is where Del tickled Charlie’s tummy with a stuffed giraffe. “‘Why can’t I be tall like my daddy?’” She tickled Charlie’s tummy again and took such delight in watching him laugh and reach out to hold his giraffe. “‘Why can’t I be tall like my brother...?’” And so the story went, until Charlie usually wore himself out and went to sleep. Which was the case tonight. He dozed off before the end of the story, clinging to his stuffed giraffe, and she tucked him into his crib, crept out and made sure the night-light was on for when he woke up later as she hated the idea of her child waking up in total darkness and being afraid.

Afterward, Del fixed herself a cup of hot tea and settled down on the couch to catch up on some reading, but she was distracted by her cellphone, which she’d set to vibrate now that Charlie was down. She’d been awfully rude to Simon and for no reason other than Charlie couldn’t wait a minute or two—which he could have since he hadn’t been crying for her. She’d set a bad example for Charlie even if he was too young to understand that. But there would come a time when he would and she dreaded that day. So in the end, she picked up her phone and made that call.

“Simon,” she said when he answered. “This is Del.”

“Let me guess. You want me to go in tonight.”

“You caught me at a bad time earlier,” she said.

“Apparently.”

“Look, I had just got my baby to calm down and go to sleep after his first day away from me, and you disturbed him. You’re not a parent, so you wouldn’t understand,” she said.

“No, I’m not a parent,” he answered, then sighed so loud into the phone she heard it.

“Well, you couldn’t understand what I’m talking about, but I like my evenings undisturbed.”

“Which is why you’ve begged off call for the next six months.”

“It was a compromise. Originally I was going to take off a whole year to stay home with Charlie, but that didn’t work out so I decided to come back during the days so long as I have my evenings and nights to myself.”

“Not that it’s any of my business.”

“Look, Simon. I called to apologize for being so rude. We got off to a bad start and when you called to apologize I wasn’t in the frame of mind to deal with it.”

“Guilty-mother syndrome?”

“Something like that.”

“I understand children, Del, but I don’t even pretend to understand their parents.”

“You would if you were a parent.”

“Well, thank God I’m not. My marriage was hell and it makes me queasy thinking we could have easily brought a child into it.”

“So you’re divorced.”

“Blessedly so.”

“Sorry it didn’t work out. Is that why you hate women?”

“Who says I hate women?”

“Your scowl, every time I looked at you today.”

“Well, I don’t hate women. I’m just...wary.”

“Sorry you feel that way. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry I was abrupt with you on the phone earlier. Normally I silence my phone so I won’t be disturbed, and people who know me know when to call and when not to call.”